


Cigarettes

by Carche



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Aobajousai, Datekougyou | Date Tech, Fukuroudani, Gang, Gang AU, KageHina - Freeform, Karasuno, Kidnapping, KuroKen - Freeform, M/M, Mentions of Blood, Nekoma, No beta we die like real heathens, Ok well this is more like a kidnapping fic than a gang fic so, Psychological Torture, Torture, in all honesty I hate this fic, iwaoi - Freeform, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:14:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 26,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25850398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carche/pseuds/Carche
Summary: What was trust?Iwaizumi couldn't tell if you if he tried.//Or: Oikawa and Hinata disappear by the hands of an anonymous captor
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 47
Kudos: 63





	1. A Glass of Red High

**Author's Note:**

> So this fic kinda just started with the thought of Smoker!Gangster!Iwaizumi at like midnight
> 
> It was supposed to be a short little thing, but my brain went gas pedal down the hill so here we are ig
> 
> Worldbuilding Notes:  
> This is an EXTREMELY vague au that could be expanded more than I have in this fic but I don't currently have the mental capacity to do so bc of school oop- 
> 
> Any and all comments and kudos are greatly appreciated <3

Bright. Something gleamed through the cracks of his eyelids. Reluctantly, he peeled them open slightly. Hazy, sour nothings had made its home inside his head. They pushed outward creating a pain that Oikawa had now established was beyond excruciating.

He groaned softly.

Again. Bright.

A halo of white pierced its way through. His eyes now fully open and his brain creating clockwork, he started around to examine his surroundings. However, before taking in his environment, something more important was expecting his attention.

“Hello,” the man smiled so wirelike that Oikawa shudders at the thought of it coiling around his consciousness. In one hand he held a large camp flashlight, and in the other a glass.

“Would you happen to want a cup of coffee?” 

⥈

“How?” Iwaizumi smashed his fist on his wooden desk, scattering his carefully organized piles of paperwork. It didn’t matter to him that each of those stacks--all for different affairs-- were now mingled among each other, as if it wasn’t already a blaring red flag for the decline of Aoba Johsai. 

The gang ran a information bureau for the local government as a fronter. It was an ingenious idea really. It was a win win situation, as it was almost impossible for Johsai to get caught for illicit activities due to them being a step ahead of the investigation department and could tip other gangs with confidential information provided by the providence’s civil services board. Of course, with a hefty price tag attached.

But now with their co-leader missing, the fronter Aoba Johsai had meticulously built was hastily crumbling amid the absence of their lead whistle blower. Oikawa Tooru was in charge of the happenings of the gang’s fronter, and knew exactly how to run it under the radar of the government. Now that he was missing, absolute havok ransacked through their primary building. He was the only one ambitious enough to wrangle the entire group together without any major falling outs. 

Iwaizumi ran his fingers through his greased up hair. He hadn’t left the building, much less his cramped office for the last two days. There was no time for selfcare when half of his person was beyond his fingertips. Oikawa’s disappearance had rattled the group to the core. No, it rattled him to the core. Some of the members could care less about their eccentric co-leader, as not all of them were a part of the gang because they had some sort of admiration for Oikawa. That was most evident in Kyotani. 

“Iwaizumi, you need to go home,” Hanamaki crooned softly. He knew the anguish Iwaizumi was going through, as his own partner was missing in action for well over a week the previous year. Oikawa had taken a great part of getting Matsukawa back from Date Tech, as he was able to negotiate a swap.

He had coincidentally uncovered a series of money laundering leading back to Date Tech, and had promised that Johsai wouldn’t take it to the investigation department in exchange for their member and a handful of resources. That was when Hanamaki truly respected Oikawa. Not that he didn’t before, but Oikawa put all of his cards on the table for a singular member. Gangs were typically more loose when it came to sparing members that no longer had an asset to the group. But not Oikawa. 

“This is no longer on the table for discussion,” Hanamaki started again, gingerly putting his palm on Iwaizumi’s fist. He could feel Iwaizumi’s fist clench up. A sigh.

“Maybe I will,” Iwaizumi slid his hand out from underneath Hanamaki’s and walked to the window, weaving through the paper maze he had knocked off the table earlier. He proped open the window with a pop, and pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

Hanamaki had observed him over the years, and had realized that he only ever smoked when he was stressed. He carried a single pack of cigarettes, counting only three inside.

That was his limit each year.

He had come to learn that Oikawa was entrusted with the rest of the cigarettes that came with the pack last year at the annual new years party. When it was nearing the start of the ten minute countdown, he had noticed that the co-leaders had slipped away to the secluded balcony away from the rest of the members. As much as Hanamaki knew Oikawa and Iwaizumi loved the group, they savored any alone time they could get. And he couldn’t blame them. They were constantly swamped with tasks to do. Oikawa with information and leads about the underground, Iwaizumi was respectively in charge of the actual gang’s doings.

Hanamaki watched as Iwaizumi took out a cigarette from the flimsy cardboard box. He rolled it in between his fingers before abruptly stopping. He made eye contact with Hanamaki. 

With a shaky breath, Iwaizumi opened his mouth. “I can’t…” he touched the hem of his jacket with the uttermost care, as if it were to disappear if handled too roughly. “It’s the only thing left that smells like him.”

⥈

It had taken what Hanamaki had assumed was an eternity to make Iwaizumi leave his enclosure of an office. There was too much to think about for Iwaizumi.

Too many possibilities.

A though about a possible gang would pop up, but was nearly always shot down by some sort of underlying link that Oikawa had previously secured with that group. He could almost laugh at how competent Oikawa was at maintaining civility with other gangs.

In fact, he could effortlessly run for chancellor in the high seats of the government board. Easy money with not only his skills, but his ability to sweet talk relying heavily on that perfect face of his. Or more so the face that Iwaizumi owned. Monopolized. The face he knew so well. Each groove that he had grazed his fingers over thousands of times. 

The last forty-eight hours took its toll on Iwaizumi, causing him to appear as haggard as the local beggar he saw occupying the subway station in Miya. His hair that was always maintained by Oikawa was now stuck in place, the hair gel now null of any moisture. His eyebags that Oikawa always jeered at now could be sold at Gucci as a handbag. It was more than obvious that Oikawa’s disappearance cut him too deep. Which also counted as a blessing for Iwaizumi as no one at Aoba Johsai purposely brought their problems to him, only ever bickering with each other. 

It was nearing midnight, yet the city of Tokyo was littered with brightly colored lights. It was a solemn reminder to Iwaizumi that despite him being stuck in one place, everyone else was bustling around with their own problems at hand. 

Iwaizumi’s eyes focused on a dimly lit orange sign. Featured on it, a cat lounging on the bar’s name.

_Nekoma._

The cat imbedded in a patchwork of yellow, black, and white was beckoning Iwaizumi to its doors. Its lazy eyes were unbecoming of what actually happened beyond the shallow clinking of empty shot glasses. 

Using his hip, Iwaizumi swung the dense metal door open. A comforting haze of murmurs overcame him, and he beelined to the bar in the back. He spotted a familiar face with a white cloth cleaning up the shot glasses a previous customer left in his drunken wake. 

“Yaku,” Iwaizumi greeted as he slid into a stool. With a hiss, he looked down and saw one second too late the dribbling of what he assumed was tequila on the seat. Yaku looked up at Iwaizumi and gave him an apologetic smile. 

“Iwaizumi. Sorry about that,” he gestured at the spilt alcohol. “A difficult customer had splashed Kenma with tequila.” Iwaizumi raised his eyebrow, as Kenma was the last person he would assume would get a drink thrown at him. He was too kept to himself to involve himself in the customer’s wallows. Yaku finished up the last glass and put the towel on his shoulder. “I’m assuming you’re not here because you feel like throwing back a shot,” Yaku grinned.

“No, you’re right. I’m surprised you don’t know what’s going on though.” Iwaizumi fingered an abandoned toothpick umbrella. 

“Well, our information network isn’t as strong as yours,” Yaku smirked. He then scanned Iwaizumi’s face.

Worry and desperation weren’t something that commonly reside on his face. “What happened.” 

“He,” Iwaizumi faltered. “Can we go to the back? I need a glass of red high.”

Yaku immediately picked up an unclosed tab someone had left.

“One moment.” Yaku says with a hardened expression.

⥈

“You mean to tell us that Oikawa disappeared?” Kuroo ran his hand through Kenma’s still wet hair. When Yaku led Iwaizumi to the back half an hour ago, he was met with the respective leaders of Nekoma, a fellow Tokyo based gang that were on relatively good terms with. More specifically, Kuroo Tetsurou. He and Oikawa got along nearly too well; too much plotting was bad for the brain. “Poof?”

“Yes,” Iwaizumi stuck his hand in the pocket of the jacket, running his fingers over the indents of the cigarette box’s label. Kuroo clicked his tongue.

“That rat bastard must have just forgot to tell you he was going somewhere, maybe to Karasuno,” Kuroo half heartedly heaved. He glanced at Iwaizumi. “Fuck,” he muttered, burrowing his face in Kenma’s hair. Kenma looked up from his phone, which he was viciously typing on only seconds before to pat Kuroo’s head. 

Kenma looked in Iwaizumi’s direction. “Do you have any leads?”

He stopped stroking the cigarette package. “No,” Iwaizumi admitted.

Yaku looked at his wristwatch. “I apologize but I have to go, we can’t have Lev run the bar by himself for too long,” Iwaizumi struggled to match a face with the name. Yaku picked up on this and added a hasty description. 

“Tall, silver headed dumbass,” Yaku waved as he closed the door behind him. 

Ah, Iwaizumi thought. He had seen him once. Too much of a talker.

“So, what’s the plan?” Kenma said, putting his phone in his pocket. Iwaizumi brought his hands to his face. “I don’t know.” 

He couldn’t think, no matter how much he tried. He could only think of how Oikawa’s life might be at stake, considering how barren his chatroom with him was. If he were really alright, Iwaizumi would have received an abundance of cutesy emojis telling him what was happening. It frightened him the lack of information he had at the moment. For god's sake, his gang’s strength was its ability to pull information out of anywhere. But as of now, Oikawa’s whereabouts were extended beyond _anywhere_.

While Iwaizumi was tracing his eyebrows with his pointer fingers, Kenma's phone vibrated loudly in an interval of on and off vibrations lasting three seconds each. Kenma seemed to have recognized the person and immediately reached into his pocket. All three of them looked at the white screen shining out of his pocket. He pulls out his phone to read the text message. A flurry of expressions flashed on Kuroo’s face as he leaned over Kenma’s shoulder to read along.

Only one emotion stood stagnant on Kenma’s face. But it was a singular expression they both made. Fury.

Iwaizumi swore he could see the hot waves roll off Kenma, reminding him that he wasn’t just a mascot to Nekoma.

He almost forgot the black leather draped on his right eye wasn’t just for show. 

“Oikawa’s not the only one,” Kenma hissed, “Shoyou is missing too. And chances are its the same guy.”

Hinata Shoyou. One of Karasuno’s guys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eyepatch! Kenma for President
> 
> Also excuse any inconsistencies my brain is empty and can only think about Smoker!Iwaizumi
> 
> (No promises this fic comes out ok because of the way my brain is wired <3)


	2. Grace Period

“Hm,” Oikawa mumbled, “fancy seeing you here,” he gestured to the man with an open palm, expecting him to offer a name. Oikawa’s hand jerked down as he attempted to raise his hand above his shoulder. He glanced down and saw a thick steel chain connecting his wrists to the chair. At least it gave him some leeway, as his wrists weren’t entirely immobilized. Matching metal bangles were wrapped around his wrists and the chain was about five centimeters in length at most. 

“You expect me to give you my name?” The man shallowly trilled and starts to make circles in the air with the still lit flashlight, occasionally blinding Oikawa with the intense beam. He nodded.

“Haha, you’re quite gutsy,” the man murmured, “Goto.” Oikawa frowned, unable to recognize the name. Which was strange seeing as he was second to none when it came to identifying members of gangs in the Tokyo metropolitan area. ‘Goto’ seemed to pick up on Oikawa’s confusion and sauntered forward to meet his face.

“Obviously you don’t seem to recognize me. A shame, Grand King.” The way the nickname tumbled off Goto’s tongue induced a wave of emotion in him that Oikawa could only vaguely label as helplessness.

“I won’t do anything to you as of now, but please do keep in mind that you don’t have the upper hand here,” Goto tapped the chains. 

“A grace period,” Oikawa spoke with displeasure dripping from the corner of his mouth.

“A grace period.” Goto agreed, and soon left the room. Oikawa heard the cold click of the bolt lock of the door latch into place.

⥈

“Hinata,” the name rolled around Iwaizumi’s mouth. He leaned back on the couch, now averting his attention to the ceiling tiles. They had a black sheen that vaguely reflected the room on its surface. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kuroo massage Kenma’s jaw. He knew that one of Kenma’s habits included him grinding his teeth when pitted against something he couldn’t handle. Iwaizumi sympathized. He too resorted to a bad habit when that happened. He began to open and close the cigarette box in his pocket. 

“But why though?” Kuroo muttered.

“Nothing comes to mind,” Kenma licked his lips, eyes training on his phone, “but Karasuno is going absolutely off their rockers. Suga texted that their construction company is halting all work until something is figured out.”

Iwaizumi then remembers what Karasuno’s fronter was. Just last year Oikawa had contracted them for a reconstruction of one of their lesser buildings a few miles out of the main junction. In reality it was a safety net in case the government got a suspicion on any non-architectural business they were playing at. After all, Karasuno was one of those gangs who’s fronter wasn’t the most secure. Oikawa busted his ass to create a coverup for them after Tanaka and Nishinoya accidentally slipped up in exchange for them to work together on the raid on Date Tech. 

Iwaizumi clenched the cigarette box.

That was going to put Karasuno on the government’s watch. How did they just think to stop their project for one of the government’s biggest departments? And knowing their gung ho attitude, their excuse to stop would have many faults and holes. As much as Iwaizumi knew that getting a member back was of the utmost importance, the foundation to leave no trace behind was just as crucial. That was the main difference between Aoba Johsai and Karasuno’s tactics. 

Kuroo let out a sigh and ran his hand over his face. “Good fucking god,” he muttered. “I don’t suppose you want to meet up with Karasuno to piece together what in fucks name is going on,” Kenma and Iwaizumi both nod, and Iwaizumi pulled his phone out to contact Kageyama. Out of everyone in Karasuno, he knew him the best. Kageyama excelled in virtually every field, rightfully earning him a reputation that claimed him as a machine Karasuno was beta-ing.

Of course, ignoring the fact that he was blatantly in love with his partner who was a complete ditz when it came to personal relationships.

▹1:26 am▹

 **Iwaizumi:** _Hey Kuroo wants to know if you guys want to meet up_

Iwaizumi stared at his phone as he saw the 1 disappear from underneath his text message. After a few minutes, no response. Iwaizumi clicked his tongue in annoyance.

What was this bastard doing? He ran his tongue over his teeth, picking up fragments of food he ate a few days ago. Yakisoba. 

What would Oikawa do? Iwaizumi knew that as much as they despised each other, their resemblance in reactions was freakishly similar. Iwaizumi let his eyes wander around, and found them focusing on Kuroo’s hip. His eyes widened. He snatched his phone up, dialing Kageyama’s number. It rang without answer for twenty four seconds before Iwaizumi heard a soft click, followed by an array of hollow metal clanking. 

“Kageyama,” Iwaizumi hissed, “you are NOT crashing into a building for Hinata. Especially solo. You don’t even know where he is.” Iwaizumi heard an audible pause on the other side of the phone. 

“Well I can narrow down which buildings he’s not in,” Kageyama grunted, and Iwaizumi heard the click of a gun nesting into its holster.

“Oikawa is gone.” Iwaizumi said through a clenched jaw. There was no answer.

“Are you saying that it's related to Hinata?” He could hear shuffling static across the line.

“Most likely. It’s too coincidental that they both went missing in the same timeframe, especially a day apart.” He caught a series of thumping, probably Kageyama running down a flight of stairs, and a crowd of voices getting louder.

“We are going to Nekoma,” Kageyama announced, but not to Iwaizumi. The muffling of his voice indicated that the phone was held on Kageyama’s chest.

“We’ll see you soon,” and with a lonely click, the line closed.

  
  


⥈

  
  


Labeling Kageyama as a ticking bomb was an understatement. He looked as if he would simply implode at any given second. His eyes darted around the room at a lightning speed, as if it were trying to take in as much of his surroundings as possible. He and Kageyama both knew Kenma and Hinata were pretty close friends, so the thought of Hinata playing a thorough prank on Karasuno probably was circulating through his brain. The desperation was dancing in Kageyama’s eyes in a way flames did the samba in a bonfire. 

“Hinata went missing about,” Sugawara glanced at his watch, “thirteen hours ago.” The room was currently packed as Sugawara Koushi, Kageyama Tobio, and Sawamura Daichi had joined him and the Nekoma leaders in a small drawing room in the back of the bar. The room was not commonly used as a meeting place, as it was mostly utilized as a place to exchange a few tips for no more than at an hour's end. But this was undeniably an uncommon situation. 

“It was Tsukkishima that realized this,” Daichi added, “Hinata’s location was shut off and he is pretty positive it was a manual switch.” Iwaizumi looked to Kageyama for any reaction. 

_Tap tap tap_

  
The way his foot was constantly bouncing reminded Iwaizumi of a lion pacing back and forth in a much too small enclosure. Sugawara gingerly placed his hand on Kageyama’s anxiety-ridden leg. Sugawara met Iwaizumi’s gaze in place of Kageyama, as he was nowhere near the Nekoma Bar mentally. 

“Oikawa is out somewhere as well,” Iwaizumi’s lips were chapped from the sudden lack of self care. After all, Oikawa was the one who always made sure Iwaizumi didn’t end up looking like the twin of Shrek after a hard day of work. He hastily ran his tongue over the flaky skin. “Unfortunately, Aoba Johsai has no idea where he is as of now.” That phrase was foreign on Iwaizumi’s mouth. The words Aoba Johsai and ‘no idea’ had no business being in the same sentence. 

Iwaizumi knew that Oikawa was a hell lot more prepared for a multi-variable situation than Hinata was, so his worries weren’t as forlorn as Kageyama’s. He had been with Oikawa for a few decades. He knew better than anyone else that sparing any extra concern for Oikawa was excessive according to the man himself. That bastard knew how to weasel his way through problems. Although, that would be the case if it weren’t for the lack of information.

Oikawa always prioritized the flow of communication. So Iwaizumi’s quiet distress was no longer unwarranted.

The restlessness held the air of the room tightly in its grasp. 

“Since we don’t have enough information,” Daichi’s voice cut through the physically manifested tension, “Karasuno can send out some members to do some common street maintenance for surveillance of the city,” Daichi nodded to Kuroo and Iwaizumi, indirectly asking for a promise of action.

“And we will be on the lookout for any out of order,” Daichi’s eyes narrowed, “especially around Miya station.” That was one of Iwaizumi’s initial thoughts when Oikawa first vanished. Date Tech was based nearby, and for all Aoba Johsai knew, it could have been a calculated jab at them. After rescuing Matsukawa and taking a handful of their resources, Date Tech along with its business in pharmaceuticals was in shambles. It seemed too coincidental that a member of both Aoba Johsai and Karasuno were abducted, when it was those exact gangs that caused Date Tech to fall. 

“Aoba Johsai will provide as much information as we can,” Iwaizumi assured, and to which Kuroo grunted in agreement.

“Any tips we get in the bar will be passed along to everyone,” Kuroo spun a silver ring around his pointer finger, “and money will not be a problem.” 

Ah, Iwaizumi forgot about Nekoma’s sly and ambitious nature. They also ran a well-established bank alongside the bar. Under different names for obvious reasons.

“Ok,” Sugawara clapped his hands together, “I will not allow for this to continue. We will do our very best to track them down and bring them back safely.” He stood up, pulling Kageyama to his feet as well. “We will be in close contact,” he nodded and walked out with the Karasuno members. 

As soon as the main agitator left the room, the suffocating nausea dropped from the remaining occupants.

Iwaizumi turned to Kemna who had curled deeper into Kuroo’s lap. It seemed like the atmosphere stifled him more than it did to Iwaizumi.

“I should get going as well,” Iwaizumi dusted off his pants, “who knows what will happen to my group without both leaders,” he unenthusiastically joked. He gave one more look at the pair on the couch, who were carefully studying Iwaizumi’s face. 

“I will see you soon I suppose.”

“Naturally.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gonna be honest seeing someone bookmark my work made me super happy flkgeogesldljf
> 
> This fic will be formatted in short chapters but more chapters? Personally it's easier to finish reading a fic with more checkpoints in between each chapter
> 
> Also I was too impatient to wait to publish this chapter because I already wrote up to chapter 5 lfhoffljfoegjogj


	3. Salted Almonds

Oikawa waited for the footsteps to soften out before testing out his restraints. In order to get out, he needed to understand his surroundings completely. He twisted his wrists and slowly lifted them up.

_Clink._

Slightly longer than he expected, the chains were roughly 7 centimeters. It was better than having his wrists directly bolted to the arms of the chair. The chair. It also was metal, so the cold and unyielding surface bit into Oikawa’s legs. 

Missing Iwaizumi was an understatement.

“It’s so unfair and boring,” Oikawa whined softly, as if Iwaizumi could hear him. He kicked his legs out, which he also found out were also bound to the chair with a series of chains. He squeezed his eyes shut and opens them immediately after. He was seeing bubbles of white. He bent over to touch his forehead with his hand. He winced.

“A nasty bump,” Oikawa deduced. He sort of remembered how he got it. Or rather, how he even got into this whole situation.

While looking into something that involved a local gang, he found an inconsistency that was hidden just enough to fly under the government’s radar. He decided to look more into it and found a location. Foolishly, he didn’t tell anyone in Aoba Johsai what he was doing, as he initially thought it was just some mishap that he would be greatly rewarded for fixing. So much for a reward.

When he arrived at the building, he snooped around; although, there was close to nothing that stood out to Oikawa. It was your standard industrial building standing close to the harbor. Thirty minutes of trekking later, he stopped to rest on the edge of a dusty table close to the main door. That was where he was ambushed. Realizing the presence of another person a second too late, Oikawa could only turn to the perpetrator and watch as a metal bat swung at his head.

“Stupid,” Oikawa whispered. Checking up on what he had on his person, he comes to the realization that they had taken his two glocks and the ladder of knives he commonly wore on his upper left thigh. All he currently had to his name were some melted caramels and the nine cigarettes from Iwaizumi’s pack, tucked away in the breast pocket of his tank. The abductors must have hastily scanned his body for weapons and nothing else because his necklace he wore underneath his clothes was also missing, along with his phone.

How ironic. His personal metals were gone, and yet he was enchained to a foreign metal chair. 

Letting his eyes wander around the room, he arrived at the conclusion that the room was not of the typical Tokyo style. It had a rustic feel that was missing from the modern metropolitan. The room was almost entirely made of wood in contrast to the metal chair he was bound by. A small painting was hung on the wall to his right. Other than that, nothing else decorated the barren room. 

“What idiot was in charge of decorating this space? What a loser,” Oikawa sniffed. 

Two minutes of silence later, there was a number of shuffling footsteps outside his door. He froze. Then, a violent smashing of a door opening. He let out a sigh of relief. It wasn’t for him. But instead, he heard a yell of desperation.

“Hello??” That voice was strangely familiar. Something-

“Hello?” Oikawa responded back after affirming the third party had now left the range of sound.

Coming from the room directly to his right, a voice called out to him, “Oikawa?”

“Tangerine?”

“Hey!” Oikawa listened to the jangle of chains. Hinata was most likely chained up the same way Oikawa was, seeing as the nappers had no sense of individuality, an ode to the lack of design and decoration. “It’s Hinata, not tangerine!”

“Well I know that,” Oikawa teased back. One last muffled clack, and silence ensued. 

“Why are you here?”

“Funny story. I was stolen. I don’t think you voluntarily came here, right?” A giggle escaped Oikawa’s throat.

“Hmm, no. I was patrolling the Miya station before I was taken here. It’s not that comfortable here.”

“Well I’m not sure what you expect, a five star hotel level room?” Oikawa jokes\d. Silence.

“Ahem,” Oikawa coughed, “so do you have any idea where we are?”

More metal jingling. “Nope.”

So much for making small talk.

“How’s Tobio?” There was a pause. 

“He’s great actually,” Hinata started but then stopped again. 

“Are you cautious of me?” Oikawa realized. Maybe Karasuno did have brain cells other than Tobio and the co-leaders. “Fine, I’ll tell you a secret about Tobio that he’s probably already told you, considering how big of a crush he has on you,” he giggled again.

“How do you know about that?” The edge he heard in Hinata’s voice vanished. Perhaps Tobio was good luck for Oikawa. No, that was pushing it.

“I met up with him during the Date Tech raid. He wouldn’t stop talking about you. Hinata this, Hinata that. It was super annoying you know,” Oikawa waved his wrist.

Hinata let out an unguarded laugh. Bingo.

“Sorry about that,” he said, stifling his laughter, “yeah he confessed like a week ago. I haven’t given him an answer just yet. I suppose this kidnapping or whatever is an intervention for that,” Oikawa hadn’t thought of that before. Maybe that ‘Goto’ man was just a simple civilian Karasuno had hired to act as a bonafide criminal. Only Karasuno would think that this was a fun joke.

Come to realize a day later, this was no joke. And certainly not planned by Karasuno.

  
  


“Good to see you both well acquainted,” Goto whistled as he brought a glass cup inside the room with him. Oikawa blinked at him, knowing full well that anything he says could hurt both him and Hinata. It had only been two hours since he last saw the slinky man. 

“Hm, not much of a talker anymore huh,” the man chuckled, setting the cup down. He propped open the door and came back with a small bedside table in hand. He set the table right in front of Oikawa and put the cup on it with false care. Curiosity got the best of Oikawa and he peered into it.

“Almonds…?” Oikawa scoffed, but the nuts had a nice balance of saltiness that he preferred. His stomach rumbled in approval. Goto just laughed and walked to the next room. Out of either pity or simple mockery, Goto left the door propped open. Oikawa went with the latter. Just a few feet away was the only exit of his confinery. But it was better to study the view he had of the hallway rather than be stubborn and look away. Afterall, the more information he had, the higher chance they had to escape. 

It was dimly lit and the wooden plank scheme in his room bled into the hallway floors. A one person staircase dropping downwards was to the left and the continuation of the hallway to the right, which Oikawa could only assume was the hall leading to Hinata’s room. Aligned with his room’s door frame was a four panelled window looking out to what he assumed was the harbor. The deep blue waters glistened, contrasting with the not so flattering wood theme of the hall. Oikawa hummed in approval. Not too far from the building he lost consciousness in.

Oikawa was able to observe beyond his room for about two minutes, which was plenty generous considering that he was the one with the disadvantage. Their cockiness granted Oikawa a good clue as to where they were.

“Well, I’ll be seeing you tomorrow,” Goto said with a disgustingly sweet tone. Oikawa wanted to kick that smirk right off his face. A shame his ankles were bolted to the floor.

Goto slid the door stopper off with his foot and Oikawa watched him as he descended down the stairs as the door closed with the speed of a sloth.

Oikawa counted to sixty then called out to Hinata. “Did he give you almonds too?” 

“Yeah, he must have gone _nuts_ ,” Hinata snickered. Oikawa could picture the pride gleaming off of the short guy’s face. 

Oikawa picked up an almond and rubs the surface of it. It didn’t seem as if it had some sort of poison or anything stuck onto it. He still had a good twenty odd hours until his grace period ended. Although, a captor wasn’t someone who Oikawa could readily trust. But then again, as a very important rook (self appointed) on the board, he existed as a beneficial asset for Goto. There was a need for him. 

“Hey Oikawa, if you’re contemplating eating the almonds, they don’t have anything on them. At least, not something that takes immediate action,” Oikawa could hear the almonds crunching in Hinata’s mouth and bursted into a laugh.

“As expected of Karasuno,” he leaned down to put the ovalish nut in his mouth.

“Damn, this shit is so salty,” Oikawa heard him pop more almonds in his mouth despite criticizing them just now.

“It’s better than nothing,” Oikawa remarked, now finishing about half the container.

“That’s true,” Hinata gulped, and Oikawa caught the small crack in his voice. “I just wish I had something to wash this down with.”

“Like whiskey?” Oikawa offered.

“Like whiskey.” Hinata agreed. “I’d kill to have whiskey right now.”

 _Whiskey_ , Oikawa thought. No right minded adult had salty foods, much less these almonds without a drop a liquor. He circled his finger around the rim of the glass cup.

The cup. Oikawa quickly spun the cup around, obviously searching for something.

A smile crept up on Oikawa’s face.

Checkmate.

He knew where he was.

  
  


⥈

  
  


“Nope, nope,” Iwaizumi muttered, sifting through the list of local gangs in the Tokyo area. It was the next day and as long as he could help it, he would turn his office into his temporary apartment. Anything to bring Oikawa back. Not to mention Hinata’s disappearance had set off his panic mode. If that slippery kid got caught, Oikawa was undoubtedly in trouble as well. Iwaizumi was starting to think that Kageyama wasn’t too insane to go absolutely apeshit with guns in order to bring what was rightfully his back home. 

Iwaizumi was teetering between complete panic and rationality. He knew it was ridiculous how one hour he was thinking of millions of scenarios Oikawa dying, but the next he was frantically working to keep Aoba Johsai’s ends together thinking that Oikawa was just fine. He couldn’t decide whether or not he should be bending backwards worrying about Oikawa.

Iwaizumi’s eyes dragged back to the leaflets in the middle of his desk.

The groups based close by the abduction area. It was a tossup between Date Tech, Johzenji, and Iona.

Date Tech was the most suspicious off the bat, as their relationship was not the best after last year. Iona was nearly off the table as is. They didn’t have the money nor the people to organize this, but their location was enough to be included.

Johzenji didn't have any distinct beef with Aoba Johsai or Karasuno, however one of the members did have a scandal exposed to the government involving possession of some sort of illegal substance. Oikawa had refused their request for a coverup because they didn’t have the money to cover it. Similar to Karasuno, their gang wasn’t the most organized and was definitely more rambunctious than them. In fact, Johzenji didn’t have a fronter for their gang. They ran their group more individually; a Walmart imitation of Shiratorizawa’s system if you will. 

Iwaizumi completely forgot about his subordinates standing at the door, watching him act out his internal conflicts. 

“Apologies,” Hanamaki and Matsukawa nodded at him. He leaned back in his leather chair. “I can’t think straight.”

“It’s alright,” Matsukawa mused. Iwaizumi fixated at the two of them. They too had eye bags big enough to resemble saucer plates. Those two were right underneath him and Oikawa in authority, and due to his absence Hanamaki and Matsukawa had to work overtime. Especially Matsukawa, since he worked directly under Oikawa in the informant department. He had to step up to the plate and take charge without warning. Iwaizumi was remorseful to say the least, but there was nothing he could do about it.

“We should look into Date Tech,” Iwaizumi decided, “and if I have free time, I’ll check up on Johzenji.” His aides both hummed in response. 

“Cigarette?” Hanamaki suggested. He brings out his own pack and shakes it at Iwaizumi.

“No,” he pointed to the Fauteuil in the corner of the office. Amid the blizzard of papers, it was the only piece of furniture that wasn’t covered. Only a weathered bomber jacket was draped on its backrest, as if Peter Pan’s shadow was wearing it. “I don’t like that brand anyways,” he starts to draw ovals on the desk with his finger, “Bajame was it?” Iwaizumi sighs and stands up.

“I’ll smoke the one Oikawa gives me **when** he comes back,” Matsukawa elbowed Hanamaki and put his hand on the door. 

“When he comes back,” Matsukawa repeated. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So basically my dumbass tried to finish writing this whole fic before school started- yeah so that didn't happen LMAOOOO  
> I got through probably 3/7 of the plot YIKES  
> Also I wrote this fic in present tense which I'm not used to and for WHATEVER REASON I decided to change it up for this fic I don't know why and I really regret it fheflefjheofhe  
> I'll probably rewrite this entire work over an extended break when school isn't a priority oops


	4. Camera

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning, starts at "Are you sure about that?"

“So now that we are out of the grace period I generously gave you, how about we get down to business?” Giggled Goto. As he was dragging the wooden table to the side, Oikawa had to manually recount what he just said. The initial shock from the head trauma had worn off, and the pain had settled comfortably in his head. His conversations with Hinata caused him to lower his guard. Dammit.

“Truth be told, it isn’t you who I have a problem with,” Goto admitted, tapping his thigh. “Or that idiot in the other room.” Hm, funny for the pot to call the kettle black.

“I just, need to return a favor,” Oikawa shuddered; this is the first time he saw this man act so… so rabidly. Goto could be dripping venom from all his pores and he couldn’t be the slightest bit surprised. 

“I know you’re close with Kuroo. I just, need to know anything that would… ruin something of his. Y’know?” Goto waved his hand in the air as if the word he was searching for was going to appear on his fingertips.

“Kuroo?” That wasn’t what Oikawa was expecting. He was anticipating a threat for him to reveal confidential information. (Although Kuroo was a dope friend, there really wasn’t anything confidential about him). Or a ransom. Oikawa considered himself to be worth top dollar considering his position within Aoba Johsai. Or he could be sold off to some other gang or organization for his skills. 

“Yes,” the man hummed, leaning against the rickety table. “If you won’t talk, then…” He knocked the glass off the table with a quick swipe. Oikawa watched as the glass ungracefully shattered into two large fragments and a billion eyelet sized crystals. Goto picked up the large glass piece that was vaguely shaped like an misshapen arrowhead. Oikawa once watched a show called “Forged In Fire” and the glass curvature reminded him of that one time a contestant warped the point of his spear. 

“You think a bit of glass is going to make me talk?” Oikawa scoffed. Apparently this man was underestimating him. Also, he had Oikawa’s gun and knives in inventory. What an idiot for not utilizing everything he had.

“Well, maybe not,” Goto admitted, “but it is a good place to start, right?”

“What do you want with Kenma??” Oikawa heard Hinata ask, to which a voice other than Goto’s laughed. Oikawa wasn’t aware of an accomplice. And Kenma…? What did- 

Oikawa sputtered. “Nekoma…?” Goto gave him a look of amusement.

“Well, they don’t consider you as the top informant for nothing I suppose,” he chortled, shaving off some of his own arm hair with the glass shard. 

“Yes, I have a favor to fulfill with Nekoma,” he hummed. “I need a weakness. Something that will take them down to the knee,” he clenched his fist.

PFT. What a dramatic whore.

“Yeah, well I’m not all too sure,” Oikawa pursed his lips and metronomed his fingers against the chains.

They hear a call to the other room, and Goto leaves briefly, glass still in his hand. 

"I'll take care of it." Oikawa listened as a series of shuffling was heard in the other room.

He came back and Oikawa noticed that he was gripping the glass as if his life depended on it. 

Kinda reminded him of the time Sugawara asked Oikawa to teach Yamaguchi how to fire a glock. 

"So, are you going to say anything?"

Before Oikawa could react, Goto ran the tip of the glass into his thigh. He heard a horrid swelch and felt the very end of the glass break inside him. Oikawa looked down and watched as Goto pulled the glass out, no longer retaining the sharp point it once had. About a centimeter was broken off. He could feel his heart palpitate out of his chest; he knew it good gash and his eyes confirmed it. Beyond the layer of skin, he saw the raw muscle cut clean, both sides pulsating. The muscles twitched with only a clear fragment separating them and blood began to pool. Luckily for Oikawa, Goto missed any major vessels or veins, whether he meant to do it on purpose or not. On the flip side, it was a little too close to his dick; the place Goto stabbed on his inner thigh was about the same length as his chain restraints. 

“Shit,” Goto paled and runs out the room, heading to Hinata’s. Squeamish much? He returned with a white towel with a few questionable tan stains after finishing a short conversation with the other man. He pressured the wound with the towel and Oikawa hissed. 

“I can’t have you bleed out on me,” Goto muttered. As much as the gash hurt like a bitch, it was kind of funny how his captor was so worried for him. It reminded him of how Iwaizumi fussed over him every time something was remotely wrong with his body, yet he was the one who was always in a more severe state. Goto wrapped the towel around Oikawa’s thigh and tightened. 

“He’ll be fine,” a voice called out to Goto. Oikawa reckoned it was the man interrogating Hinata. At least one of them had balls. Goto’s back straightened and his hand grasped onto the glass. Oikawa couldn’t believe that he had the NERVE to be scared by him. Goto was nothing but a child who acted tough in front of others.

“You have to talk, or else something worse will happen,” Goto’s voice slightly wavered.

“Try it.”

It had been just about thirty minutes, and Goto had sliced his thighs about six times. Hinata probably had a harder time, as he probably had the more sadistic guy and the sheer amount of muffled yells Oikawa heard from next door. He couldn’t let this go on anymore. Plus, Goto was paling so badly that it put James Charles to shame. If Oikawa could pin unofficial titles, this man would be the follower. There was no way he would be able to pull off any of these stunts by himself. 

_A way to contact…._ Oikawa spotted a phone lodged in Goto’s back pocket.

“Since you’re so desperate for an answer I can’t give you, why don’t you blackmail my gang? We are the main hub of information after all. I’m sure I have a weak point written on Nekoma somewhere,” Oikawa licked his lips, pulling the flakes off. He was taking a gamble, but he needed to reach Aoba Johsai, or really anybody, somehow. Hopefully this man was as stupid as Oikawa thought he was. According to Iwaizumi, it took one to know one.

“Why didn’t I think of that,” Goto muttered. Oikawa chews the side of his cheek. At last, something going right for him. “What are you chewing on?”

Oikawa freezes. “My cheek?” Goto frowned and makes him open his mouth up. He found nothing obviously.

“Take a picture of me, and make sure you include my face, that’s very important. Also give my group my warmest regards.” Goto took out his phone and counted down for Oikawa.

He flashed his teeth. 

  
  


⥈

  
  


Iwaizumi’s eyes were trained on his desktop. As much as he was worried about Oikawa, he had the obligation of leading Aoba Johsai. He had to do as much damage control as he could in Aoba Johsai; he would never let his group become the next Date Tech. He will fend off karma for as long as he could. That was the least he could do, for both the group and Oikawa. Knowing that bastard, he would probably scold Iwaizumi for ignoring his work just to find his whereabouts.

_Ring_

The office suddenly was filled with the sound of the generic ringtone. Iwaizumi rubbed his eyes as he read the caller id. Karasuno’s Sugawara.

“Hello?” Iwaizumi could hear someone laying it on their car horn and lots of incoherent squabbling.

“Yes hello, I’m on my way over to your building with Kageyama, Daichi, and Koganegawa,” Iwaizumi picked up someone yelling at the driver. He didn’t recognize the last name Sugawara had listed. “He’s a member of Date Tech.” Iwaizumi’s ears perked up. How did they get this guy?

“Alright,” Iwaizumi walked towards the door. “And I suppose you called Kuroo and Kenma?” It turned out Sugawara didn’t, so Iwaizumi handled it. “See you in thirty then.”

Iwaizumi took it upon himself to pace in his office to pass the time.

Iwaizumi surveyed the Date Tech member. He didn’t seem all too familiar; either he wasn’t part of Date Tech during the raid from early last year or he just didn’t notice him. However, this man was eye catching, and not in a good way. His piss yellow hair stuck up in all directions, which was already unflattering, but the three strands of hair that were dyed jet black were what did it for him. He was what you would get if you combined that ugly yellow Angry Bird with the Adidas logo. If you placed him in the streets of Tokyo during rush hour, you could still find him in a heartbeat. His eyebrows were not doing him any justice either. 

_Iwa-chan, yours are no better!_

Iwaizumi turned his head around so fast that it might’ve snapped off, had he not grab his jaw right after. He groaned, rubbing the very feature he hallucinated Oikawa insulting.

“Alright man, where are they,” Daichi asked the poor man. He was seated in a simple wooden chair, surrounded by six menacing guys with nothing but his hands to defend himself with. 

“Where is _who_ ,” Soft rays of sunlight highlighted the pooling tears in the corners of Koganegawa’s eyes. God, Iwaizumi wanted to deck Helio for letting this bitch appear as the victim. 

“Who else, Hinata Shouyo and Oikawa Tooru,” Kageyama yelled, lunging at him. Daichi and Sugawara each took a hold of his shoulders, barely stopping him from mauling his face in. God that kid was feral.

“We don’t have them at our building, if that’s what you’re asking,” Koganegawa cried out.

“Yeah, and I still have my right eye,” Kenma scoffed and he shrunk into his seat. 

“No, we really don’t, I swear.” They were getting nowhere with this guy.

“Why did you pick this one?” Kuroo asked the Karasuno members, and Sugawara subtly swatted at Kageyama. 

“Yeah, well, somebody happen to raid one of Date Tech’s pharmacies thinking that Hinata was in it, and ended up taking this guy.” Daichi glared at Kageyama. Iwaizumi was really starting to be convinced Kageyama had the backbone of a skyscraper because his withered scowl was still tacked to his face.

“You have my word, we don’t have them,” Koganegawa squeezed the arms of the chair. “I have connections with the leader, please, I can assure you,” everyone gave each other incredulous glances.

“M’kay,” Kenma waved his wrist and spun on his heel to the door. “Shouyo is somewhere and I can’t be wasting time on you.” Koganegawa frowned and Iwaizumi swears his adidas-logo-eque bangs wilted.

Everyone’s eyes trailed after Kenma and Kuroo through the door. Iwaizumi saw Kuroo tenderly reach for Kenma’s jaw before turning to the Karasuno members.

“I doubt we will get anywhere right now,” Iwaizumi grumbled. It could have been worse though; at least Koganegawa wasn’t trying to escape at the moment or was making it harder for them. “So um, you’ll have to stay in this room until otherwise,” Koganegawa nodded, unfolding himself from the wooden chair.

“Hopefully your group will do something quick, or who knows what will happen,” Kageyama knocked his knuckles on his holster. Koganegawa peeled his eyes from Kageyama and gave Iwaizumi a skittish and skeptical look. Iwaizumi just shrugged his shoulders and ushered Daichi, Sugawara, and Kageyama out of the room. 

“Do you think this would work though?” 

The four of them were out of the room’s range, yet they still whispered as if Koganegawa could somehow hear them.

“I guess we can only hope.”

  
  


Night had fallen on Tokyo’s nocturnal landscape. Daichi, Sugawara, and Kageyama had taken refuge in the Aoba Johsai building courtesy of Iwaizumi. They were given a room on the same level Koganegawa did. Kenma and Kuroo left shortly after leaving the Date Tech member’s room. There was no small talk between them and the others, and perhaps Iwaizumi was thankful for that. The past few days were overstimulating his brain, and the adrenaline had finally worn off. 

A break, Iwaizumi nodded. He wasn’t being selfish. Not selfish. 

He rolled his chair back and started walking towards the lonely chair in the corner of the room. Oikawa’s jacket had remained untouched ever since he set it down the other night. He hesitated, but then gently picked it up. 

He rolled his fingers over the collar. The smell of Oikawa was steadily fading, and Iwaizumi had thought that if he left it alone that it would stick longer. The fact that he had to focus on the lavender detergent scent told him that it was for naught.

He leaned back in his office chair with the jacket overlapping his chest and the sleeves over his arms. 

A brisk knock pulled him out of his latest Oikawa-death-scenario.

“Um, Iwaizumi,” he immediately recognized Yachi’s blonde head. He fixed his posture in the office chair and raked his hand through his hair. He pulled the jacket into his lap to hide it from view.

“Yes?” Reading Yachi’s face, she looked as if she consumed a pint of moldy blueberries. An olive complexion and a mouth twisted so complexly he didn’t know what it meant. He spotted a folder in her hand. 

“For me?” 

Yachi nodded and gingerly placed it on his desk. She opened her mouth, but clamped it shut soon after.

“Is there something I need to know?” 

Yachi gulped, “the man who gave this to me outside the building said that he would visit again. And I saw what was inside. I- I will be taking my leave now,” she ran out of the office holding a hand over her mouth. What on earth could she have seen to make such a reaction?

  
  


Iwaizumi menacingly stared at the picture as if that would make it spit out Oikawa’s location. “What the fuck,” he said, rapidly tapping the edge of the photograph. He opened the folder and a set of photos printed from the local CVS fell out. 

What irritated him more was the fact that Oikawa was somewhat smiling in it. Well, smile was a stretch. Oikawa’s pearly whites were showcased, the corners of his mouth neutral. The cut marks and stab wound, which were clearly the reason why he even got this sent to him, were almost dismissed by Iwaizumi. The determination he saw reflected in Oikawa’s eyes was as blinding his as his teeth. 

Limpid and unwavering.

He wanted to believe that his worries were a bit dramatic. At least, that was what he was trying to brainwash himself with. Iwaizumi couldn’t lose faith in him; they were equals after all. Yet he couldn’t help but come up with countless situations where he’d come out empty handed and Oikawa missing forever.

His fingers grazed along the red lines. Scabs had yet to form and the last line on his thigh had a drop of blood forming at the end, so Iwaizumi could only assume this picture was taken soon after. 

“Fuck,” he muttered, shoving the photos into the manila folder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo massaging Kenma’s jaw to make it unclench is probably my favorite thing and my brain will probably go feral over the thought tonight
> 
> ANYWAYS. My neanderthal peabrain started school this week and yet I'm still out here writing this fic GOODBYE LMAO- I couldn't focus in any of the zoom calls because my one braincell went "haha what if this happened in the Haikyuu fic"
> 
> Also the plot in this fic moves too fast BC MY BRAIN MOVES TOO FAST FOR ANY OF THE PLOT TO ACTUALLY HAVE DEPTH I hate it here
> 
> OK LAST THING BUT- I wrote the epilogue chapter for this fic before finishing a FAT chunk of the original plot and it kinda put me into Bokuto Emo mode n now my brain can't finish the fic- the one in charge of making me really said mediocre writing skills and the incapability to finish anything they start? True heartbreak


	5. Investigation Department

“So what you’re telling us is that they are blackmailing us?”

Iwaizumi wanted nothing more than to leave the room out of embarrassment. He hadn’t realized that there was a note accompanying the set of photos until they opened it all together. it was one of those dewy and slow mornings, the ones that didn't go by as fast as Iwaizumi wanted it to go. A sluggish kind that made him feel as if he were under anesthesia. The ones were even a gallon of coffee wouldn't matter.

Kuroo and Kenma had come back to the building the next morning after returning to Nekoma last night and they all met up in a secluded board room in Aoba Johsai. 

“But why do they want information on Nekoma? On Kenma and Kuroo?”

That was what puzzled Iwaizumi. They obviously hadn’t kidnapped anyone from Nekoma. Was it on purpose that they took someone from both Aoba Johsai and Karasuno?

“I wouldn’t be surprised though.” Heads turned to Sugawara. It was if he had read Iwaizumi’s mind. Or maybe he had muttered his thoughts out loud.

“Think about it. First off, those two are pretty close to Kuroo and Kenma. Anyone in the underground knows that. Secondly, there are barely any openings for the kidnappers to take anyone from Nekoma. Nobody important really leaves the security of the bar unless for a special occasion.” Thank god for Sugawara. At least he was able to connect the dots.

“Well ok, so we figured that out. We still don’t know who took them and what motive they have other than the vaguity of dirt on Nekoma?” Suga puts his hands up and shrugged.

“Got nothing here.”

“Ok well, Yachi said that the man said he was going to come back. Maybe we can take him into our custody when he comes back. And then do something. But we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

“Maybe we can take turns rotating shifts to guard Yachi starting from six till he comes. Although we know their aim is Nekoma, that won’t guarantee anyone else’s safety.”

That was something they could all agree on.

“Um, hello,” Yachi’s face popped into the room and her eyes fell onto the six men crowding the head of the table.

“Iwaizumi, you have a visitor.” Another face came into sight: Atsumu Miya. 

Atsumu was part of the government’s investigation department and was in charge of Unit 3. The same unit Oikawa somehow kept provoking when tampering with the data for underground clients. 

“Fancy seeing you all here,” he acknowledged everyone in the room. “I kinda have to talk with Iwaizumi, unless you all have a hand in the missing employee of Date Tech?” 

Iwaizumi then gave everyone a hard stare. 

“They don’t,” although he was lying through his teeth, he knew that Atsumu probably already had the answer to his own question. Iwaizumi shuffled everyone out except for Atsumu who makes himself comfortable in an empty swivel chair.

“So,” Atsumu started as the door closed with a soft click.

“I was sent here because Date Tech filed a missing persons report on a Koganegawa Kanji. I don’t suppose you are responsible for this, right?” Atsumu’s somewhat careless attitude was befitting for his need to spin his chair at a terrifying speed.

“I,” Iwaizumi twisted his mouth. “We don’t know anything about that.”

Atsumu stopped spinning his chair and brought his phone out of his pocket.

“Are you sure?” He pulled up a video. “Is this not Karasuno’s man?”

The video was a security feed of the Date Tech Pharmacy Kageyama had raided the previous day. Although it was not the best quality, Iwaizumi could feel the pure rage radiate from Kageyama as he pulled Koganegawa out from behind the counter.

“Even if that was Karasuno’s guy,” Iwaizumi licked his lips, eyes still glued on the video, “Aoba Johsai has no involvement in it.”

“Even if I personally know that Kageyama ran here with the missing persons?” They stared at each other for a full minute until Iwaizumi broke it.

“Listen, I know your department has bad beef with ours due to,” Iwaizumi’s words lingered on his lips, “due to Oikawa, but right now isn’t a good time for us.”

“And so when is a good time? Never? Listen, I have a job to do just as you do. Sakusa doesn’t believe me when I say that the information bureau your group runs is nothing but trouble.” Atsumu gave Iwaizumi a glare.

“It’s caused me enough problems. I suppose I’ll give you a day to think this over properly. Although it seems like it might be my win. I’ll visit again.” And with that, Atsumu left Iwaizumi standing speechless in the empty boardroom.

His internal moral balance scale was teetering dangerously. The side that held his sense of duty as a co-leader was a sliver away from tipping over. This not-so-empty threat Atsumu made was going to put Aoba Johsai in major trouble. If they were lucky, only him and other top members would go to jail and ‘commit suicide by a bedsheet’. 

He had to keep Aoba Johsai together. Until Oikawa comes back.

He had to somehow fabricate a string of lies to make it seem like it wasn’t a kidnapping on their end. He wasn’t as good as Oikawa in formulating these types of things, but he knew a second best available. Hopefully Matsukawa knew what to do.

⥈

Oikawa had learned earlier that day that Goto had a twin. Or, Yatsu had a twin. Apparently he didn’t notice that he had already met him. Goto was the one who he was intimidated by on the first day and Yatsu was the one fussing over Oikawa’s leg.

Now that he thought about it, Yatsu didn’t tell him that he was someone else. Maybe so Oikawa would be afraid by him? That solidified his ongoing theory that Yatsu was the follower and that Goto was the one who actually thought up the plans.

“Hey,” Yatsu entered Oikawa’s room with a small tray of almonds. “It’s all I can manage.”

What the fuck? When did he become so nice when he was the one who tried to be all maniacal like his brother? There had to be some catch to this. And almonds again? Where was the flavor?

Yatsu must have read Oikawa’s skepticism off his face because he popped an almond in his mouth. 

“These aren’t poisoned either,” he said while thoroughly chewing through the skin of the almond.

“Either?” Had he heard Hinata and his conversation?

“The walls around here aren’t that thick. But it is smart of you to talk when Goto is out,” he set the tray off to the side. 

“Listen, I know it’s super weird and alarming for me to be nice to you guys, but if I’m being honest, I didn’t really want to do this whole kidnapping thing. Granted, I used to have something against Nekoma. But I don’t know. I think holding a grudge like that wouldn’t do anyone a service.”

Oikawa could only stare at him. 

Nobody asked this man to be all sentimental.

Besides, Oikawa was starving. 

“Um,” Oikawa manages, “ok.”

“So you believe me?” Yatsu perks up.

“Uh, no, cause like, you stabbed me and all, but I am hungry.” 

Yatsu’s mouth formed an o, and set one of the almond cups on the table in front of Oikawa. “Sorry about that.” 

He then walked to Hinata’s room to deliver the other.

“Do you think it’s a trap?” Hinata called to Oikawa a few minutes later.

“Shhhh,” Oikawa hissed, “this man’s got hawk ears.”

“You mean bat ears?”

“Bats use echolocation.”

“But they still use their ears right?” That was something Oikawa didn’t know. Afterall, the only bat knowledge he had was that they slept upside down. The bat research project he was forced to do in fifth grade was all done by Iwaizumi while he slept in class.

“Uh, I don’t know. Anyways, I don’t know about this man. He still seems suspicious. Feels like they’re playing Good Cop and Bad Cop. Only really kinky,” Hinata stifled a cackle.

“Oh, chain me up _Daddy_ ,” Hinata mocked in a deep voice, which prompted Oikawa to spew an almond out in amusement.

“Daddies,” Oikawa corrected, popping another almond in his mouth.

“Almond Daddies,” Hinata agreed. They both erupted into a fit of laughter; Oikawa banged his fist on the arm of the chair and tears were squeezing out of his eyes.

“Oh man,” Oikawa coughed, “we got caught by the Almond Daddies? What a catch.”

  
  


⥈

  
  
  


“Ok, so here’s the thing. There’s two separate problems we need to deal with. There’s the situation with Koganegawa right, but there’s also the thing with how we are going to deal with the blackmail. Do we respond?” 

He had Matsukawa come up to his office half an hour after watching Atsumu leave the building. Matsukawa always had a sense of rational that Iwaizumi was glad to have in his life. As Oikawa’s designated voice of reason, it was nice relying on someone else for a change.

“That’s true. We discussed the idea of catching the man when he comes by later today.” Matsukawa gestured and Iwaizumi could basically see the cogs turning in his head.

“That seems reasonable. We could get information out of him and get Oikawa back. Oh and the other guy.” Iwaizumi snorted. _The other guy._

“Ok, so that leaves the Atsumu and Date Tech thing.”

“Right. So what we could potentially do is alter all the videos and make it seem like it wasn’t Kageyama, create alibis for everyone that they were in different places, and that some other gang took that guy.”

“Or,” Iwaizumi picked at his fingernails, “we can offer to restore their exclusive contract with that one drug manufacturer.” When they raided Date Tech last year, they also managed to take one of their suppliers. There really was no need for it other than for Oikawa’s ego to be inflated even more.

“I’m sure it can be arranged. But this is all assuming Date Tech aren’t the ones that have Oikawa and Hinata.” Iwaizumi had forgotten that Date Tech was their main suspect in the captors. The news of the investigation department on their asses was more than enough to push the suspicion out of his mind. Thank god for Matsukawa.

“Maybe they really aren’t though. If this whole mess is a gang feud, why would they bring the investigation department into this? The last thing anyone needs is the government to latch onto anything regarding us.”

Matsukawa was an absolute godsend.

“Yeah, that does make the most sense. We can negotiate with Date Tech in the next few days. I can contact the supplier and create an appealing contract for them so this whole misunderstanding can be swept under the rug.” This was the first time in a while that Iwaizumi had a set plan in front of him. 

“And we should probably do something about Koganegawa.” 

“Oh yeah. Maybe we can ask Kiyoko or Yachi to like, bewitch him into being a peacemaker or something.” Iwaizumi snorted again.

A peacemaker would be good.

Matsukawa and Iwaizumi went through small details in their plan before presenting it to the rest of the group. Within an hour, they developed a plan.

Well, a plan that had the term ‘maybe’ at its core.

  
  


“So, basically what you’re telling us is that Date Tech couldn’t have been the ones who took Hinata and Oikawa?” Everyone had once again met up in the board room Atsumu barged in. Iwaizumi was at the forefront of the table explaining what he and Matsukawa had brainstormed.

“Yes. It doesn’t make sense that Date Tech wanted dirt on Nekoma. If anything, they would have wanted something against Aoba Johsai or Karasuno.”

“I agree with Iwaizumi. Nekoma is a partial investor in Date Tech. If we pulled out our support, one or two of their suppliers would as well.” Kenma motioned at Kuroo.

“Ok, well if Date Tech is off the table, what does that leave?” Kageyama was virtually vibrating out of his seat. 

The guy no longer had any bad will towards Date Tech, which was ironic seeing as this rat was the one who caused more for him and Matsukawa thanks to him nabbing that employee. However, that hatred was no longer directed at a specific being so it was now leaking out of him like an overfilled teapot.

“Logically speaking, there isn’t enough time for Oikawa and Hinata to be transported anywhere besides the territory of Johzenji and Iona near Miya station and the harbor. My problem is that nobody has a problem with Nekoma. At least not fiscally.” That was the thing that stumped the group. It was thought that the captors had a problem with the gung-ho Karasuno or the highly priced intellect Aoba Johsai, not Nekoma.

“All we can do right now is wait for that man to contact Yachi again.” The group unanimously agreed and they soon adjourned the meeting after half an hour. 

Iwaizumi was the last to leave, but he spotted Kageyama waiting for him outside of the door. He was unusually still. Over the last few days without Hinata, Kageyama was bouncing off the walls.

“Can I speak with you in private?”

“Of course.” Although they didn’t speak on it, they walked to Iwaizumi’s office as a spot to talk. 

Kageyama trailed behind Iwaizumi by a few steps, which made him a bit anxious to walk faster. The silent trip up the stairs was enough to make him ramp up the speed. A minute later, they arrived at Iwaizumi's office. He fumbled with the lock a bit even though he was accustomed to it. Kageyama observing his every move put him on an edge. 

"So what exactly do-"

"I need all the information on everything along the harbor." Iwaizumi stopped right in his tracks. He was on his way to his desk, but Kageyama caught him off guard. He turned to face Kageyama. 

Iwaizumi didn't like much light in his office as it distracted him, so he had the overhead florescent lights removed a few years back. His office space was mostly dark, but the Tokyo skyline created enough illumination from the glass wall panels behind his desk. 

As the door closed behind Kageyama, the mellow light from the hall eclipsed behind him, shrouding the apathy written on his face. 

And if I say no?" Iwaizumi watched the corner of Kageyama's mouth twitch.

"It wouldn't really matter to me. With or without your help."

“You can’t just raid every building along the harbor,” Iwaizumi sputtered. “What would you explain to the government?”

That flipped Kageyama's switch. Suddenly, his eyes were cast on him with such hostility that Iwaizumi was convinced for a solid second that he was the one keeping Hinata captive instead.

“The government?” Kageyama’s voice was low and gravelly, retaining a thickness in the back of his throat. “You care,” his jaw tightened, “about the government? More than Oikawa?”

Iwaizumi faltered. Of course he cared deeply about Oikawa, but the safety of Aoba Johsai was entrusted in his hands. 

"First of all, doing that would do no one any service." Iwaizumi trailed around his desk and stopped next to his chair.

"You'd be endangering everyone at Karasuno."

"You lot at Aoba Johsai seem to have your heads too far up your asses. Being too concerned with the future is blindsiding you from what's happening now. And what's happening now is the fact that we don't know what's happening to Hinata and Oikawa." Kageyama kept his eyes trained on Iwaizumi, taunting him for an answer.

"As I said, we are doing our best in the circumstance."

“You fucking bootlicker.” Kageyama scowled and slammed the door open, leaving a handle shaped indent in his wake. “I’ll be taking the shift now.”

Iwaizumi sunk into his seat. He wanted to get Oikawa back as soon as possible, much to Kageyama's misconception.

But he had responsibilities too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone please explain to my brain what a plotline of a story is because this bitch be switching up the focus of the story WAY TOO OFTEN GOODBYE
> 
> I prewrote this fic up to chapter 10, so it's probably gonna end up being about 11-13 chapters long in total- Idk how other authors do it, but I'm sitting at 23k words and my brain is absolutely WASTED (yet I keep adding more details and so the plot just kinda sprawls everywhere I blame the fact that my brain generates a specific scene and absolutely runs with it)


	6. Fingernails

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning starting at "he prepared the tool"

“What on earth happened?” Iwaizumi had raced down to the lobby after getting a frantic call from the front desk. Once appearing, he took in an awful sight. A nasty bruise was developing on Kageyama’s face, and Yachi’s makeup was running from tears. 

It was nearing midnight, so it was still Kageyama’s shift. Yachi was sitting in the cafe next door to Aoba Johsai with him when the man appeared once again. They apparently exchanged a few words explaining that he had no other options other than to surrender himself. He had come with absolutely nothing according to Yachi. No additional notes, no weapons. They had been too confident in catching him. The man had apparently sacked a good one on Kageyama and took off.

“Fuck,” Iwaizumi huffed. The stairs took a number out of him. 

Sugawara was making himself busy by dabbing some sort of topical medication on Kageyama’s face, muttering how stupid he was to let the man punch him.

“I’m so sorry,” Yachi wailed, “I provoked him by saying that we would never give him the info, never in a mil-” she chokes, “in a million years! This is my fault oh I am so sorry!” Kageyama pat her hand.

“It’s fine. At least you’re not hurt.”

“It’s not fine! **I** could have taken the punch instead!” Iwaizumi handed his handkerchief to Yachi who then used it to dab up her tears muddled with black mascara and eyeliner. 

“So much for the plan,” Iwaizumi knew that the plan was too good to be true. Hence the plan being dubbed ‘maybe’ by him and Matsukawa in secret.

“What should we do now? We don’t even know if he will come back,” Yachi cried again.

“Well, I don’t suppose that they’ll stop now. I mean, taking Oikawa and Hinata was already pretty extreme. They probably having something else up their sleeve. I doubt they’ll stop harassing us.” Yachi nodded and her cries soon become occasional hiccups.

“Alright, let’s all rest up. Nobody is in their right minds as of now.” Sugawara clasped his hands together and closed up the lid of the first aid kit. 

“Sleep.” Yeah, that sounded pretty good to Iwaizumi at the moment. 

  
  


⥈

  
  


Oikawa looked at his lap in horror. The nine cigarettes were laying skewed across his legs, some parallel with the bumpy red slices on his thighs. 

He had accidentally leaned too far and the cigarettes in his breast pocket had fallen out. All because he wanted to itch his face. It had been asking for his attention for hours. 

It was probably day two or three sitting in this chair and his muscles were all stiff as boards. Or maybe day four. He couldn’t tell. The only light in the room was from a single lightbulb over his head that looked like it would sputter off if he flicked it with his finger. There was no sun or moon to tell him how much time passed from when he last saw Iwaizumi.

A steady pacing up the creaky wood stairs put Oikawa’s brain in overdrive. The only reminder he had left of Iwaizumi was at an arm's length away; he wasn’t going to let that be taken away, not if he could help it. 

_Thump._

Hurry, he thought while desperately resisting against the chains. The restraints grind into his wrists and he could feel his fingertips begin to freeze over from the pressure. 

_Thump._

If his hands couldn’t reach… 

_Thump._

Oikawa's head shot up and met with Goto’s beady eyes peering through the small pane. He opened the door and like a hawk he swept up the cigarettes. His talons brutishly dug into Oikawa’s sores without a smidge of concern. A spit-filled guttural cry left his lips in shock. A callous smile crept onto Goto’s face like a brown recluse.

“Oh my, cigarettes?” he crushed them all except for one in his hand, letting the loose tobacco disperse off his palm. He then unclipped a small Bic lighter from his jeans and lit the cigarette. He drew in one puff and snuffed it out on the back of Oikawa’s hand. The strain on Oikawa’s face seemed to be so entertaining to Goto that he let out a nasty hyena laugh. “You shouldn’t have.” 

Oikawa snarled, gritting his teeth. He felt the joint paper rip in his mouth and the taste of Iwaizumi erupted inside.

“Just so you know, Oikawa, yesterday when I went to Aoba Johsai to see if they would give me the information in exchange for you, they said, and i quote, ‘never in a million years!’ I thought they cared about you.” 

Oikawa knew that he said it just to jab at him, but it still hurt nonetheless. He knew they cared about him. Iwaizumi cared about him. 

“It’s because you aren’t try enough.” Oikawa didn’t know where that confidence came from. Goto just smirked. 

“Well, I suppose we can try a little more hm?” Goto left the room and Oikawa heard him rummaging through a box in another room that wasn’t his nor Hinata’s. He came back with pliers in hand.

“Why don’t we send them a small present? Something,” he glanced at the tool and then to Oikawa’s hands, “something personal.”

Oikawa’s eyes widened. 

His perfectly manicured hands were **not** an option.

“H-hey,” he sputtered, “can we do something else? Maybe toenails instead? Or how about nipping a piece of my ear off or something. Not the fingernails though,” Oikawa’s hasty remarks rang unheard in Goto’s ears.

“Well, that protesting makes me want to take them even more,” Goto brought the table over to the side of Oikawa’s chair. “Let’s make this a less painful experience, so don’t move your hands too much.”

He prepared the tool and grasped the first fingernail.

His pointer finger.

“Hey,” Oikawa spoke meekly. Oikawa gasped as he felt a dull pressure pulling on his finger. 

And with one smooth move, Goto pulled off the first fingernail. Oikawa screamed through his teeth, making sure that the cigarette wouldn’t fly out of his mouth. 

The tobacco from it was starting to numb him, almost acting as a substitute anesthetic. 

Oikawa then observed his finger; the flesh under his fingernail was all wrinkly and pink and made him feel nauseous. What made him feel even more sick was the infections he was bound to get. Goto was no saint, and was most likely not to wrap his fingers. He could imagine the skin becoming tough and turning into a yellowish green hue from the fungus. 

“One,” Goto smiled and placed the nail on the table. He wiped off some flesh he had pulled off along with the nail.

  
  


Ten minutes later, all of his fingernails were removed. They were laid out in a morbid fashion on the table. Oikawa couldn’t bear to look at them. 

“Ah, and how could we forget? You need a picture too right?” That had completely slipped from his brain. He was busy being in pain despite the tobacco taking some of the agony away.

“Right.” Oikawa croaked.

“Now say cheese!” Oikawa let his mouth hang open in a circular manner, the tobacco pressed up on the side of his cheek, out of sight.

  
  


⥈

  
  


Iwaizumi had once again made himself at home in his office. He had worked overnight reviewing a contract he was writing up for Date Tech. They just didn’t know about it. He had called up the supplier and somehow they knew this was bound to happen. Quoted from the phone call, ‘there was no need for you to take our services. You have no need for us. It’s a win-win situation. We get the money and our old client would get the materials’. 

It took him a while, but a final copy of the written up. Just in time for the meeting with Karasuno and Nekoma in the afternoon.

“We haven’t made any progress.” Nekoma had their bartenders, Yaku and Kenma, try and lure any information out from their ‘special’ customers. “No one in the smaller groups have any idea about what happened to Hinata and Oikawa. But we did have a small fry from Date Tech mention how the top of the group were all frenzied because of a missing member. He complained about the awful timing because everyone in the office were swamped with work.”

“So Koganegawa wasn’t lying when he said he was close with the pack leader.” Speaking of him, Iwaizumi had made sure that he wasn’t too scruffed up. They fed him and gave him the essentials. Ha, as if his neat appearance was a good enough reason for Date Tech to forgive the misunderstanding.

“Yeah, so what should we do about Date Tech?” 

“I was writing up a new contract between that supplier and Date Tech last night. Hopefully that would be enough to sweep this whole thing under the rug.” Iwaizumi scruffs his hair and his hand comes out with bits of dust bunnies in it. He had some cleaning to do in his office space. Oikawa always reminded him to keep up with maintenance, whether it was his actual person or his environment. 

“Hmm,” Kuroo’s face was scrunched up while looking through the clauses of the contract.

“Wouldn’t it be more appealing if it was an exclusive contract?” 

Shit. He forgot about that part, and Iwaizumi wasn’t too sure the supplier would like that. After all, the more clients they had, the more money they would earn. And everyone in every industry were hungry for money, no matter how much they had. 

Aoba Johsai weren’t an exclusion to that.

“I’ll try.”

“You better.” Kageyama was getting even more cockier and disrespectful by the hour. At first Iwaizumi could understand his frustration, but now it was doing nobody any service. And frankly, a good clock to the head was a wonderful method of sobering up a crazed person. Iwaizumi approved tactic. Proven by its use on Kyotani. 

“Why you,” Iwaizumi started, rolling up his right sleeve. Kuroo tugged on the hem of his shirt while Sugawara slapped Kageyama’s forearm.

“Can you two stop it? We are doing the best we can to find them,” Daichi sighed.

“Are we? Are we doing the best we can?” Kageyama challenged Iwaizumi.

“Yes,” Iwaizumi dryly answered, “yes we are.”

  
  


It wasn’t until he received the second set of photos that he fully formed the idea that Oikawa was in a bigger situation than he initially expected.

Kageyama and Iwaizumi were sitting in silence in his office when Yachi burst in. The rest of them made both men sit in the same room in some weird attempt to have them make up. 

She had been ambushed on her way back from Aoba Johsai to her apartment by the same man. They had been idiotic to not send someone to accompany her.

But, that was on the basis if Yachi was not exposed to combat. She came out fine, as she had given him a nasty kick to the ribs after receiving the packet. Something Yachi described as an awful crunch to both her foot and his ribs. 

Yachi made her way back to Aoba Johsai to give Iwaizumi the package. This time, she didn’t peek inside; she learned her lesson from last time.

"Well, aren't you going to open it?" Kageyama growled at Iwaizumi.

"Obviously," Iwaizumi started up a line of insults in his brain, but a dark smudge on the packet caught his eye. He emptied the contents.

Iwaizumi gritted his teeth.

Pictures of Oikawa and fingernails. 

Kageyama quickly scanned over the photos.

“Why don’t we get anything about Hinata? Why is it ALWAYS Oikawa??”

“What, you want your lover’s fingernails to be sent to you instead of Oikawa’s?”

“He’s, not my lover…” Iwaizumi frowned. With the way Kageyama had been acting, it seemed to him like they were a thing. 

“At least you know Oikawa is alive. For all I know, Hinata could be dead.”

“You call this,” Iwaizumi waved a photo of Oikawa’s face contorted in pain and his mouth fixated in a circular shape, “this alive?”

“And this is the most I’ve seen you worried about Oikawa’s wellbeing. I am more deserving of news about Hinata than you are of Oikawa’s.”

“What, deserving? You? When I am the one fixing up the mess you made with Date Tech?” Kageyama’s mouth clamped shut. 

“He would never let his fingernails become like this,” Iwaizumi motioned at the bloody clumps in the packet. The bottom of the folder was turning a dark brown from absorbing the blood from the fingernails. The note and photos at the bottom were splattered with soggy freckles as well. 

“And it won’t stop at here. They’ll do something worse if we don’t give them what they want.” The note had mentioned that they would be expecting the information about Nekoma in a package by the Miya station at twelve that night. 

“So what you’re saying is that we should backstab Nekoma?” Kageyama’s face twisted with uncertainty from Iwaizumi's words. “And suppose we do that. What then? You really thing they’ll give back Oikawa and Hinata? Highly unlikely.”

“But then what do you suppose we do?”

“Nothing.” Iwaizumi’s teeth grit again, “we can do nothing.”

“Laying low? Until when? We need to take action!”

“Without proper information? You’d just cause more problems.”

“That is something we can fix AFTER we get them back. Their safety is a priority.”

“And my group is also a priority.” Kageyama narrowed his eyes.

“Oikawa _is_ your group.” Iwaizumi couldn’t argue with that fact. 

“I trust him.”

“Trust him with what? Not to die? I don’t suppose he can stop his death when he’s tied up in that chair.”

“He’s cunning.” Iwaizumi couldn't tell if he was trying to convince Kageyama or himself.

“Who are we kidding right now? Iwaizumi with all due respect. If he was as ‘cunning’ as you said, then why aren’t his fingernails still on his hands? Or are they not as important to him as you say.”

God, he hated when someone pointed out his cowardice. Especially if it wasn’t Oikawa. 

“I,” Iwaizumi couldn’t muster anything up. Perhaps Kageyama was right. And he was more than deserving of seeing Hinata.

As Iwaizumi curled his forearms over his face, a knock was heard on the door. He frowned and pushed himself out of the chair. 

"I got it," Kageyama quickly opened the door to Kenma. He peered in and observed both Iwaizumi and Kageyama as if he wanted to put his own two cents in.

"Sorry," Kenma hunched over, stepping back out of the door frame.

"No, I was about to leave," Kageyama tossed one last glance at Iwaizumi before leaving Iwaizumi and Kenma.

"Sorry I kind of overheard," Kenma swayed his wrist. Iwaizumi motioned to the couch which Kenma gratefully accepted.

"It's no problem," Kenma must have caught the contradiction Iwaizumi was trying to pass because the way Kenma blinked rapidly, it was like he was not hearing Iwaizumi correctly.

"Trust?" Kenma let the word hang over the room. "I wonder."

Iwaizumi waited a bit for Kenma to answer, but the blonde just sat there with a scrunched up nose.

"Kageyama isn't inherently wrong," Kenma finally spoke. "But his _trust_ is a bit selfish."

"Selfish?" Iwaizumi could call Kageyama's opinion on truth a number of other things, but selfish really wasn't up there.

"Yeah," Kenma fumbled with his fingers, "but so is yours."

Iwaizumi opened his mouth to speak, but Kenma continued on.

"Trust is always selfish." 

There was nothing Iwaizumi could follow up with and Kenma didn't explain what he meant, so they sat in silence; the muffled orchestra of Tokyo cleansed the air of any uneasiness. The traffic six stories down was somewhat comforting, as it was something to focus on.

After the blare of a fifth car horn, Kenma stirred. "I suppose," Kenma paused to take a glance at his wristwatch, "I better get going." 

Nothing was said, and Kenma left as fast as he appeared. A few minutes of tracing the shapes of buildings in the glass, Iwaizumi realized that Kenma swept by his office with minimal discussion. Why did he even come here in the first place?

He propped open a small side window and let the cool breeze in. The room soon smelled just like when he visited the rooftop of the building. The faint scent of bus diesel and iron settled on his furniture and the breeze fluttered the skirt of the bomber jacket in the corner. 

⥈

  
  


“How’s your battle wounds?” Oikawa joked. He had learned that the midnight hours were the safest to talk to Hinata as Goto had routinely been leaving the building around these hours to visit Aoba Johsai. 

“Other than getting sliced with a knife, I’m pretty good.”

“With a knife? Lucky, I was cut with glass instead, and I’m pretty sure that there’s a shard of it in my thigh.” Oikawa heard a squeak from the other room. Something resembling the notion of ‘ouch that sounds like it hurts’.

“And he pulled my fingernails out too.” A gasp. Oikawa laughed at how freely Hinata was able to display his emotions. So much so that he could basically picture all these different reactions on his face.

“What have they been doing to you OH MY GOD,” Hinata whisper shouted. “I kinda just faint-slept for the majority of the day.”

“I mean, what can we expect from them. Well, at least from Goto. Yatsu is kinda wimpy.” 

“You mean the one that came into the room with a really flustered face the other day? He was so pale and looked like he was about to puke! If I had the chance to laugh I would, but Goto would’ve probably ripped my face off and spun it out the window like a frisbee.” A frisbee. Honestly, Hinata was such a fun person to be around, as apposed to Kageyama.

Oh yeah? How was Kageyama?

“So can you tell me about your relationship with Kageyama? What’s up with him?” Oikawa heard Hinata stutter Kageyama’s name. “I mean, you don’t have to talk about him if you don’t want,” Oikawa offered. He took the silence as a yes, so he took the initiative.

“Ok so basically, you know that caterpillar eyebrows looking man that I’m usually with? Yeah so like he’s the absolute love of my life, but he’s so DENSE. He constantly blabs about how proud he is to be my partner and how cool and reliable I am. I mean, I love flattery more than the next person, but that’s shit I can get from anyone. He never says anything about being in love with me. He’s so STUPID.” Oikawa found himself waving his hands around to emphasize his frustrations. Well, wave them with whatever range of motion the chains allowed.

“Oh my god, Iwaizumi is actually like that? I’ve seen him at the bar with you a few times. Though I seem to only pay attention to Kenma whenever I go in for a few drinks. Oh, and also recently this weird guy. But that's besides the point. I always wrote him off as the really capable guy who knew how to handle everything.”

“And then he has the audacity to say that Kageyama is so much like me. The fuck? He may have similar skills to me but personality-wise it’s all from him. I just wish Iwa-chan could just say what he’s thinking.” 

“I totally get you! Kageyama is the same way. He gets all stuttery around me and then has the sheer audacity to call me a dumbass? Oh please. And he also never shows his love? Like is it a trend nowadays for people to be roundabout when showing affection? My brain only takes direct action thank you very much.”

The ranting of Iwaizumi’s flaws was a nice change of pace for Oikawa. And probably was the same for Hinata with his Kageyama-ridden problems.

As much as he loved the man, Iwaizumi was awfully stupid when it came to relationships, and not even limited to romantic ones. And what more, he knew everyone had this specific image of him as the unmistakably dependable leader. Thankfully, Hinata was an understanding person. Probably sympathized because he had a similar situation.

“I mean I love the responsible side of Iwa-chan, but sometimes he mistakes other things as loyalty or trust. Might have to get glasses for the man. Ooo, he would look hot in my glasses,” 

Oikawa could just picture it; Iwaizumi sitting in his office wearing those rims and making it a habit to remove them to rub the bridge of his nose when he was frustrated, and then- he had to stop himself short. Too much Iwaizumi-dreaming was bad for the brain. 

Oikawa coughed and a small bit of the cigarette in his mouth came out. He frowned at the small brown patch on the ground. “Anyways.”

“No nO, continue on the glasses. Also I didn’t know you wore glasses?”

“Yeah, I mostly wear contacts cause I don’t really look good in my glasses. I have monthly’s in right now. They might be a little crispy though, I’ve been making due with squeezing tears out to hydrate them.”

“Oh? But I think you’d look good in glasses. You look good in everything.” Oikawa didn’t know if it was on purpose, but Hinata’s flattery was hitting different. Or that he hadn’t received validation from anybody lately.

“Oh, I just remembered something. Sorry it’s like super off topic, but Iwaizumi smokes right? I heard from Kageyama about it. What does it taste like? It’s not good for you apparently. Does he want to die?” Oikawa let out the most genuine laugh.

“Actually, he doesn’t smoke very much anymore. It was worse before. Back then he could smoke multiple packs in like two weeks.” Iwaizumi’s addiction was pretty bad until the last three years.

“Oh? How did he kinda stop?” Oikawa partially wondered that too.

“I’m not entirely sure,” Oikawa admitted, “just one day he gave me his cigarette pack and told me to keep most of them I guess. We then made it a thing where he kept a few cigarettes and I would give him a ‘refill’ every month or so. Now, he only needs to refill every year. Three cigarettes. He’s done really well,” Oikawa mused.

“That’s,”

“Kinda weird?” Oikawa offered.

“No,” Hinata marveled. “It’s just, he trusts you. So much. It must have been so hard for him to give up something he’s been addicted to. Maybe that’s his way of showing affection. He trusts you.”

Oikawa never thought about it that way. 

"Is it trust though?"

They then heard the door bash open downstairs. 

“I guess this cuts our late night talkshow short,” Oikawa jeered. An angelic laugh came from the other room.

Hm, he should really go out on a date with Hinata after getting out of here. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brain rot, absolute brain rot


	7. Grey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gore warning starting at "an eye for an eye"

“That fucking BITCH of yours, I ought to,” Goto punched the air and proceeded to uppercut for a good measure. MMA wouldn't have even considered him, seeing how ridiculous he looked.

He had come into Oikawa’s room first thing in the morning, complaining about Yachi. Apparently she gave him a good one to his ribcage and now he had a bruise purpling there. Ah, that yellow ball of sunshine was nothing short of impressive. 

“And they gave us NOTHING. You are useless,” Goto spat. Although Oikawa was glad Aoba Johsai didn’t give information away, though he was slightly insulted that he didn’t seem that important.

“Well I’m awfully sorry it isn’t working out for you. How about you let us go then? Us I mean both Hinata and me, surely we aren’t of value to you,” Oikawa babbled.

Maybe if he seemed passive enough, maybe he’d let them go.

Not.

I mean the guy took off his fingernails for godsake. A thin layer of skin had formed on his fingertips, but the coloration of them were disturbing.

“Well,” Goto licked his lips, “you aren’t useful right now, but the other guy may,” Oikawa paused. First off, he already took his fingernails. Ugh, why the fingernails. Oikawa still couldn’t get over the fact that they were removed. And now that Goto was angry, he’d probably do something worse. 

“Yo, haven’t you heard the saying third time’s the charm? Maybe this time it’ll work out for you,” it wasn’t that he owed something to Kageyama, but he did feel that he had to shield Hinata from as much harm as he could.

“Yeah yeah, third time’s the charm my ass. I’ve waited more than three times for an opportunity. I don’t have patience.” Oikawa clenched his teeth and felt the tobacco squish in between. “That bastard is going to get something that is very familiar. Maybe to jog his memory perhaps.” Oikawa had no idea what Goto was going on about.

“An eye for an eye,”

Holy fuck. Was he really? Oikawa noticed a cocktail spoon poking out of Goto’s back pocket. Shit. Oikawa’s eyes follow as Goto walked down the hall and out of his range of sight.

“An eye for an eye,” he repeated again. Seconds later, Oikawa could hear the metal echo of Hinata kicking the legs of his chair.

“Breathe!” Oikawa shouts as Hinata screams bloody murder. He knew that saying it was not helping, but he needed to remind Hinata that he wasn’t alone.

His screams heightened for a single moment, and Oikawa felt as if Hinata’s pain had somehow infected the air. Nothing was physically damaging him, yet he could feel as if he was getting his eye scooped out as well.

“Hm, it’s not the cleanest job, but it’ll do,” Goto noted. Oikawa heard the muffling of a box clamping shut. That was what he probably put the eye in.

Oikawa shivered as he slowly glanced at the door’s window. Goto’s eyes were gleaming through the glass pane, clear and insatiable. 

“I’ll spare you the image of the eye, although it is a pretty sight.” 

Yeah, that was fresh coming out of someone who had both eyes intact.

"Hinata," Oikawa called out. He waited until Goto descended down the stairs and for Hinata to catch his bearings a little better.

"I- I can't see, one eye," Oikawa cringed as Hinata gasped for air.

He didn't know what to say. Like, what would you say to someone who lost their eye?

'One step closer to becoming a pirate'? He made the mistake of saying that to Kenma before, and soon after he received a jacked up shot glass filled with some sort of nasty concoction rather than rum or tequila. 

"Um," he faltered. Nothing came to mind.

So they sat in mutually painful silence.

  
  


⥈

  
  


“An eye for an eye?” Suga muttered, reading over the short message attached with the crude reminder nestled neatly in the small velvet jewelry box. Clumped up veins and all.

According to a receptionist, a man had come to the front desk that afternoon with a neatly wrapped jewelery box with a note attached saying that it was for Yachi. She had offered to go get Yachi so he could give it to her in person, but he declined. The receptionist thought it was an admirer and happily fulfilled his request to put it in her office mailslot. Only, it wasn’t a promise ring or a set of earrings or any sort of jewelry for that matter. 

“An eye…?” paling, Kenma doubled over while clutching the leather wrapped around his right eyesocket. Kuroo, who is right beside Kenma, immediately crouched down to Kenma’s side and rubbed his jaw. He looked up, turbulence rattling in his eyes. 

Frenzied, Kuroo asked, “can you recognize which eye it is? Left or right.” He hugged Kenma and murmured positive affirmations while maintaining eye contact with everyone.

“Left,” Kageyama said hollowly, causing Kenma to shake profusely. 

“Shit, _shit_ ,” Kuroo hissed, biting his fingernail. “This is our fault.”

“What do you mean by that,” Daichi asked cautiously, watching Kenma’s reactions with laser focus. 

“It’s probably Nekomata’s grandsons,” Kuroo grimaced. Iwaizumi heard Oikawa talk about Nekomata briefly before. The Nekoma group was reformed under Kuroo and Kenma about six years ago. They had killed the former leader and banished his remaining relatives, the twins Goto and Yatsu, from the group. One of the twins had taken Kenma’s right eye during the conflict. 

“We should have just killed them off.” Kuroo rubbed Kenma’s jaw more fervently, to which Kenma winced at the excessive force. A small apology comes from the black haired man.

“It says we have 10 hours to get them the information.” Sugawara paled.

“We know who they are now, why don’t we go fight them?” Kageyama was on the brink of explosion. When they first opened the box, his reaction was shockingly quiet. Maybe it was a loss of words, or that he wanted to deny that it was Hinata’s eye. But now, he was just simply overcome with rage.

“The problem is, we don’t know what happened to them. We never tracked them down.” Kenma was now face first in Kuroo’s button-up.

“Well why didn’t you do that? Did you ever think, maybe they would come back for revenge? And other people were dragged into this mess that your group caused! We didn’t ask for this!” Kageyama had one foot on top of the table while he was busy communicating his thoughts. 

“We had other problems to sort out. This whole thing was essentially our fault, I admit. However, Kenma and I haven’t even remotely hit 30 yet and you expect us to sort out the entire dynamics of our group knowing that some members might have lingering loyalty to the old leader? We were and still are young, and yet we had to fix the problems that old man left for us? Kageyama, nothing is black and white. Most things are grey. Our reasoning and experience? Grey. Your priorities with Hinata going missing and you kicking your ass for not realizing your feelings sooner?” 

Kuroo jabbed his finger at Kageyama, “grey.”

Kuroo licked his lips angrily and curled his finger around a lock of Kenma’s hair. 

“What I’m saying,” Kuroo sighed and let his head fall back on the top of the chair, “is that your perception of something isn’t absolute. We all just have different ideals and methods to get to the goal.”

“Well said,” an unfamiliar voice lowly bellowed. Iwaizumi turned his face to see an ominously large man with white hair chuck a can at them, smoke billowing out. It hit Oikawa’s jacket that he was wearing and fell to the ground. His conscious started to fade.

⥈

  
  


(Quick note, temporarily Kiyoko’s POV until the next ⥈ break)

The building’s main lobby was teeming with smoke. She and Yachi were working at a set of desks nearby the front reception desk when an opaque white smoke filled the hall. As soon as it reached the windows, office workers began to drop like flies. 

It was a type of fainting gas that was commonly used to put a large group of people to sleep. She and Yachi were familiar with this gas. Unfortunately.

“Yachi,” Kiyoko whisper yelled. She heard a small confirmation that Yachi was conscious. 

“I’m gonna go to the smoke canister,” she heard Yachi shuffling away. While she was getting the container, Kiyoko sifted through her drawers with the limited vision she had. Her fingers grasped around a cool faux leather handle.

“Found it! It-” Kiyoko heard Yachi stop. “Date Tech…?” Shit.

“Yachi we need to go to the sixth floor NOW.” They had been overly cocky. Of course Date Tech would come get their important member, regardless of their score 0-1 to Aoba Johsai.

They raced to the stairs while also fanning at the gas in hopes it would start to dissipate. One. Two. Three. Four. They climbed up the flights of stairs with the speed of mountain goats.

They arrived at the room where they kept Koganegawa. The door was knocked open, and Kiyoko spotted two men hovering over an unchained Koganegawa. They turned to her and Yachi.

“Hm, how are the ladies of Hurian?” Yachi looked as if she wanted to maul their faces in. Yachi’s fist was bound tight around a knife she had somehow found while getting the gas canister.

“We are the ladies of _Aoba Johsai,_ ” Yachi glares. 

“Yeah sure, whatever you want to rebrand yourself as,” both of the guys laughed while Koganegawa sits in confusion. 

Of course he wouldn’t have known. He wasn’t around when it happened. When Hurian was still a thing. She and Yachi were part of a child testing group under a close ally of Date Tech dubbed Hurian. They would always use this gas on them. 

Kiyoko shook her head. She didn’t want to remember.

“Well, now that we have what we came for, we’ll be leaving,” Kiyoko blocked them from coming out.

“You did something didn’t you,” Kiyoko hissed.

“Oh no, the girl got me,” one of them mockingly spoke. “Maybe we paid a visit to a certain someone,” Kiyoko couldn’t decide whether her blood was boiling or if it froze still.

“Don’t worry, we didn’t stick drugs into them,” the other laughed and Yachi flinched. She raised her knife and pointed its end at them. 

“They’re just sleeping.” The men shoved Kiyoko to the side and raced out, one with Koganegawa over his shoulder.

“Tch,” Kiyoko cradled her shoulder. She knew a nasty bruise was settling in. “We have to go to the boardroom,” Yachi nodded and they both sprinted down the hall.

The door was wide open, and inside all six men were slumped on the floor and chairs. 

“Iwaizumi…!” Yachi ran to Kageyama while Kiyoko slung Iwaizumi’s arm over her own. 

“We need to get them to dorming rooms.” They immediately got to work and carried all six of the unconscious guys down the hall. 

  
  


⥈

  
  


“... Kiyoko?” Iwaizumi’s eyes fluttered open. She was sitting in a chair next to him, typing away into a laptop. He abruptly sat up and his vision blotched up. She noticed his awakening and stops typing.

“Careful,” her voice soothed him, and he blinked away the black spots in his vision.

“You remember what happened?” Iwaizumi and Kiyoko brief each other on what had happened in their respective vicinity. It was now nine in the evening. They wasted away the entire afternoon.

“Damn,” Iwaizumi ruffled his hair, “we should have been more careful.” He reached to his neck to rub the hem of his jacket, but his fingers closed around nothing. He looked down and only saw the shirt he was wearing underneath. He was no longer wearing Oikawa’s bomber jacket. 

Kiyoko registerd the panic in his eyes. “I washed the jacket because the gas canister’s insides splattered all over it. Better to wash it as soon as possible. It should be done drying by now.” 

Iwaizumi pushed off the comforter and raced out the door despite Kiyoko’s cries to take it easy. He ran down the hall and turned into the small side room for the washer and dryer unit.

Iwaizumi opened the door just in time to hear the short jingle the dryer makes when its finished. All momentum he had running down the hall had stopped, and he slowly popped open the door of the dryer. The heat rolled out, hitting him in the face. He pulled the crisp jacket out and puts it to his chest. 

It didn’t smell like lavender anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO VERY tempted to write like a short spin off about Kuroken overthrowing Nekomata and the stuggles they have while mending the problems within Nekoma...... (and if I make a spinoff, maybe one of the problems would be Nekoma partially funding Hurian...) Many thoughts rn..... 
> 
> Also I got hella distracted and wrote half of a Bokuaka fic for the past three days oops- So,,,, this fic probably isn't gonna end well.


	8. Hallucinate

The last hour had now come to mock Hinata and Oikawa. Goto had placed a countdown in Hinata's room at the start of the ten hour time limit he had set for Aoba Johsai and Karasuno, and the clock was inching closer to all zeroes.

“Hey, thanks for keeping me company.”

“Are you kidding? Dude I’d say the same for you!”

“I’d probably have gone insane wayyyy sooner without you to talk to.”

“Yeah, getting tortured without doing anything wrong would have sent anyone over the edge,” Oikawa rolled his eyes. He was going to miss this banter. 

“Well, I will probably be dying pretty soon,” Hinata chuckled, “say, if you weren’t ever a part of this whole thing, where in the world would you rather be?”

Hinata sounded like a generic tv show host, but Oikawa went along with it. Anything to distract from the fact that not only did Hinata lose an eye in the last ten hours, but that he was going to die in the next one.

“Rio,” admitted Oikawa. It was a beautiful city that had equally stunning beaches. He had seen a tv program about it before, and it stuck with him.

“Oh worm? I do too! I want to be able to curl my toes in sand. And the views! OH my god,”

“Damn. I wish I could take you there.” 

If only.

“When you get out, can you tell Kageyama something for me?” Oikawa’s mind lingered on Hinata’s choice of words.

**‘When’.**

“Yeah,” Oikawa could only croak that word. 

“Could you tell,” Hinata’s voice broke. He took in a deep breath and tried again. “Could you tell Kageyama that my last word to him was Lagoa?” Lagoa? Why Lagoa? What did that even mean? Oikawa decided to not press further on the oddity of his message.

“I’ll do that.” Oikawa promised. Something flashed in the doorframe and he blinked his eyes to make sure he wasn’t seeing things.

Bangs. Awfully cut bangs.

“Hinata,” Oikawa’s mouth dried, “Kageyama.”

“Yeah? That’s the guy. Tell him that for me.”

“No, I mean I see him.” A pause. Then a series of frantic clanking of chains.

“WHAT? He’s here? He’s here to get us out?” Oikawa tilted his head to Kageyama. 

He stood looming in the hallway, a gun in hand.

“You heard him Kageyama! Get us out fuckass!” Oikawa shouted. 

“Kageyama?” Oikawa heard Hinata start to shout with him. There was no movement from the dark haired man.

“Who are you guys talking to?” Goto peered into Oikawa’s room with a tactical knife in hand. 

How could he not see Kageyama? He was standing right in front-- 

Goto walked right past him. Oikawa clamped his mouth shut.

“Kageyama is here to get us out asshat,” Hinata snarled. Goto gave no immediate reaction. 

“Where?” There was nothing but pure confusion in Goto’s voice. 

“In the hallways?” Oikawa meekly spoke. He heard Goto shuffle out of Hinata’s room and look along the hall.

“There’s no one there,” Goto laughed.

“But Oikawa-”

“He’s probably seeing things,” Goto snorted. “Well, times up. I’ll make this swift, I promise.” He rolled the word ‘promise’ crudely around his mouth. It sent shivers up Oikawa’s spine and right after it hits the very top, he felt a sharp twinge in the back of his brain. 

A coarse scream belted out of Hinata and Oikawa could feel himself slip away. His conscious was fading, but why?

Before his eyes close, he spotted Kageyama turn to him and give him a cold glare.

And it all went dark.

“This is all your fault,” Kageyama hissed, “Hinata could have lived! You could have tried harder. You could have been strong enough to break those chains yourself. Pathetic.” Oikawa could feel the spitball Kageyama hurled at him. 

“No,” Oikawa muttered. 

He knew that Kageyama was an illusion. 

He was an illusion. 

He is an illusion. 

The spitball is an illusion.

It had been a few hours since he woke up. Hinata was dead, and Kageyama was haunting him for it.

_“He’s dead! And this is your fault!”_

Again, that argument. It was now overdone, and Oikawa was well aware that it wasn’t Kageyama. Although, he knew deep down that if he really were here, this was something he would totally say.

“Well where were you? You could have gotten both of us out alive had it not been for you dumbasses not picking up on the hints I tried to give! I gave it my all! Frankly speaking, I am a genius!” 

The word ‘genius’ was not sincere on Oikawa’s tongue.

“This is all your fault,” Oikawa muttered.

“Good god,” another voice joined in. At first Oikawa stiffened, thinking it was Goto, but a hand clasped onto Kageyama’s shoulder. 

Goto couldn’t see nor touch Kageyama. 

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa breathed. The familiar spiky hair and bush-like eyebrow combo comes into sight.

“You fuckass, who the FUCK chews on cigarettes? Don’t you know it’s toxic? And don’t tell me you swallowed some,” Iwaizumi stopped in front of Oikawa. Kageyama somehow disappeared, so it was just the two of them.

He so desperately wanted to touch Iwaizumi’s face. It was too long apart.

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa spoke again, but with slightly more enthusiasm. 

Suddenly, his chin was jerked upwards by Iwaizumi’s hand.

“He’s right, this is your fault, Shittykawa.” Oikawa shuddered. 

That pet name. It was always uttered with a lingering feeling of affection. 

Always…?

“Iwa-chan?” 

“This could have been avoided. His death could have been avoided. It should’ve been you.” 

No matter how angry Iwaizumi got at Oikawa, he never took this tone before.

“Iwa-ch-” 

“Don’t call me that,” Iwaizumi snarled. 

And all of a sudden, all the pain the tobacco held back comes crashing down on Oikawa. 

_“I will never come for you. And while you’re at it, give me my cigarettes back.”_

  
  


⥈

  
  


Iwaizumi sat in the laundry room for fifteen minutes, fitting himself in the small space between the wall and the laundry unit.

He didn’t want to go back. 

His fingers drifted along the cigarette pack in his pocket.

_Knock_

“Iwaizumi?”

There was a twang of cautiousness in Kiyoko’s voice.

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry about the jacket. Um and also, everyone else woke up. They aren’t majorly hurt, but Kenma has this nasty cut on his shoulder.”

“Alright.” 

Still clutching the jacket, Iwaizumi rose to his feet. He halfheartedly opened the door to see a concerned Kiyoko facing him. He then gave her a curt smile. 

It wasn’t her fault for washing the jacket. He shouldn't have been wearing it anyways.

  
  


“Ten hours is up,” Kageyama spat.

He sat in the corner of the room, spinning a knife on the side of his knuckle. Iwaizumi almost didn’t recognize him.

Kageyama didn’t wipe any of the white powder off himself other than his face, which Yachi did before he woke up. The translucent residue highlighted the ghoulish shadows underneath his eyes and made him out as if he were a resident of hell. 

Half of him had died.

“We don’t know that Hinata is dead,” Daichi walked over to Kageyama’s side, but was stopped when he made eye contact with him.

Kageyama was dead quiet.

When he spoke, Iwaizumi swore a blood curdling wisp came out to deliver his words.

“I have his eye.”

Kuroo and Kenma sat in the last bed in the row of bunks, Daichi and Sugawara both occupied the desk seats, and Yachi, Kiyoko, and Iwaizumi stood by the door. 

No one had any idea what to say to Kageyama.

Dark clouds came rolling in, casting a gloomy blanket in the room and an uncomfortable silence held the room in a death grip. Prickles ran up Iwaizumi’s legs. 

“Um,” Yachi piped up, “I’ll go make something for everyone to eat,” she then swept through the door. 

As if they were playing Night In The Museum, nobody moved. At least, they dare not to.

Iwaizumi looked to the window, urging the clouds to move so they could too. 

The cumulonimbus clouds glowered in response, tightening up the holes where the sun dared to peek through.

A low ring comes from his phone, the room dimly illuminated in the light of his screen. 

**_Atsumu:_ ** _Come to the lobby._

He was glad he had an excuse to leave. 

Glad to see Atsumu? There’s a first for everything.

“There’s something I need to take care of,” it came out a little bit gruffer than what he intended, but that didn’t matter to him. More importantly, he was out of the room.

  
  


“You wouldn’t believe what Sakusa told me the other day,” Atsumu waved his hand to illustrate his point, “that you guys are anything BUT trouble,” he shook his head.

“That I shouldn’t be coming here to cause you trouble!” His palm slapped the table top.

Iwaizumi met up with Atsumu in the cafe next to Aoba Johsai after seeing the text. For some reason, this man decided to rave about his problems to Iwaizumi.

“I don’t suppose he has a point,” Iwaizumi picked at the straw of his iced coffee. 

Atsumu just glared.

“Listen, ever since my bar buddy at Nekoma disappeared outta NOWHERE, nobody else wants to listen.”

“And I’m sure for good reason,” Iwaizumi sips his drink. “He probably ran away from you.”

“You don’t understand, he was such a good listener! Anyways, I’m actually here for something else.”

“You don’t say.”

“Oh my god why are you so RUDE.” Atsumu puffed. “All I need is for you to hand over that Date Tech member and your testimony that you did take him.”

“That,” Iwaizumi swirled the straw, “I can’t do.”

“Not even if I threaten you with a cold case I have the authority to open back up?”

Iwaizumi looked up from his cup. He knew exactly what Atsumu was talking about. 

There was a time in his life that was more than embarrassing to look back on. Thankfully, Oikawa was able to cover up most of the known information with his manipulation skills. But it was alarming that Atsumu knew about it.

“I told you,” he rapped his fingers against the table, “I can’t do that.”

“And why not? Aren’t you scared what will happen if I do open it back up?”

“We don’t have him. He’s back at Date Tech.”

Atsumu frowned.

“The investigation department hasn’t received any word on that.” He stood up with his drink in his hand.

“And as of now, I have the authority to put you on house arrest.”

“Where did you get the right to do _that_?” Iwaizumi snarled.

“Head boss,” Atsumu smirked, “he was pretty suspicious of the case as well. I hope you don’t go roaming around,” he raised his hand and left Iwaizumi alone in the cafe.

  
  


⥈

“Open up,” Iwaizumi’s hand still gripped on Oikawa’s chin. 

“No,” he gritted through his teeth.

“Give it back,” his threatening tone sent spiders down Oikawa’s spine. 

If there was a more perfect time to cry, Oikawa wouldn’t have believed in its existence.

“Give my cigarette back,” tears prickled and Iwaizumi’s face blurred.

“No,” Oikawa whimpered, “I safeguard them for you.”

“Safeguard them from who? Give them,”

“Safeguard them from you.”

A pause.

“And who asked you to do that?”

“You,” the tears were threatening to spill out, and along with it everything he held back for his sake. For Iwaizumi’s sake.

And so they did.

“Do you know how much pain I was in? To see you like that,” Oikawa’s knuckles whitened.

“I would have given you them back if it would have stopped your pain, but where would we have ended up if I did that?”

Iwaizumi let go, and his eyes trailed to the tobacco pile on the floor from Goto crushing them. He touched it and somehow, a cigarette appeared in his hand. 

And now, lit up.

Puffs left his lips.

The white paper rolled between his thumb and forefinger.

His eyes glazed over after a number of hits.

“Like that.” Oikawa said flatly.

Oikawa continued to chew the tobacco regardless.

“What is that?” a third party had now entered the room.

Goto was suited up in a suave navy blue tux, his hair combed back with such vigor Oikawa knew Goto’s rarely used comb was crying.

He stopped mid chew.

Goto pulled at Oikawa’s jaw and opened it up without pause.

“Cigarette? I thought I took them all,” and he plucked the main chunk of tobacco from Oikawa’s mouth. He quickly examined the chunk before bringing his phone out of his pocket.

“Cheese,” The phone flashed, and he smiles, approving of the picture.

“I guess I’ll send this back to your Iwaizumi,” he shook the hand holding the crumbling tobacco.

 _“Back to me,”_ Iwaizumi agreed, exhaling the nauseating smoke.

  
  


⥈

Atsumu had sent some sort of watch guard for Iwaizumi the next morning; it wasn't official, more like the guy owed Atsumu a favor. All he had to do was make sure Iwaizumi didn't go somewhere 'shady'. Though, Iwaizumi was pretty surprised when he was laid back about it.

"I'm just here to keep you from doing something sus apparently," he said, sitting on the small bench in the hallway outside Iwaizumi's office. "But I heard from Sakusa that you guys aren't that bad," he brought his phone out and started to scroll on twitter. 

"So what's with the guy?" Iwaizumi answered with 'Atsumu' after shutting the door and Kuroo's face did a cartwheel.

"Oh of course it's him," Kuroo complained, snapping back his glass, "Oikawa sometimes talked shit about him."

Iwaizumi could only hum in response. Kuroo had come by with some alcohol from Nekoma for them to drink. According to him, it was a good way for Iwaizumi to let some stress. Maybe that was the case for Kuroo, but he preferred other escapes. Getting tipsy in the morning shouldn't be a regular thing though; but who was he to pass up a few glasses.

"I asked Kenma to get something other than this bottle of tequila," Kuroo pointed to the half empty tequila bottle he snagged from behind the bar at Nekoma. "You can trust Kenma's choice in alcohol more than mine," he laughed, leaning his arm deeper into the couch, "I like just about any drink thrown my way. He's a little bit more picky. Oh, no, 'refined tastebuds'," he mocked.

"Trust him?" Kuroo nodded.

"Great taste. He'll pick something out that you'll like, don't worry." That wasn't what he was thinking of though. He was just reminded of when Kenma came in for a short while and said that trust was selfish.

It couldn't hurt to ask Kuroo right? So he did.

"Trust? Kenma said that it was selfish?" Kuroo snorted. "Of course he did. After all, that guy wouldn't want to burden anyone else with his problems." 

"Then why do you two-?"

"Oh, I suppose in his 'trust', it's _me_ being selfish. Although I don't think he minds," Kuroo picked dirt from underneath his fingernails, "I mean, he hasn't gotten rid of me yet has he?"

Iwaizumi couldn't decide between laughing along with Kuroo or give him an actual response, so he just stared as Kuroo ran his fingers around the rim of his shot glass.

"Personally, I think Kenma is wrong about being selfish. Hm, no, maybe it's a partial to trust. Hng," Iwaizumi watched as Kuroo spun his glass like a top on the floor. His lower body was still on the couch, but his chest was now touching the ground, making him look like a stretched out cat. The glass stopped after hitting Kuroo's forefinger.

"Trust," he started, "needs you to be selfish."

Iwaizumi reached over for the tequila and gestured it towards Kuroo, who gladly took it after fixing his position. As he was pouring, Kuroo's tongue ran circles around his open mouth as if the right words were stuck behind his teeth.

"For me, trust is like being able to let the other person make decisions that would affect the both of you without any doubts of their judgement or something."

"Like liquor?" Iwaizumi offered. Kuroo snapped his fingers and pointed to him with wide eyes.

"Yes! Well that's kinda a superficial example, but yeah. It's kinda like being blindfolded," the door opened and Kenma came in with a small bottle in hand.

"Yeah," Kenma snorted, adjusting the leather eye patch, "and I'm halfway there." Kuroo sat up to receive the liquor from him.

"Is this a mix you made?" Kuroo asked, spinning the bottle around to read the label. Kenma nodded.

"I made it just now," he shrugged to Iwaizumi, "I figured you'd like this."

"See? Trust Kenma." Kuroo then poured an unused glass of the new alcohol and passed it to Iwaizumi.

"Also," Kenma brought out a small packet. Iwaizumi recognized it immediately; it was the same as the packet the rest of the photos came in. He made big strides toward Kenma, who took a step back in alarm.

"Yachi said to give this to you," Kenma whispered.

"Sorry," Iwaizumi stuck his hand out, "can I see that?" Kenma nodded and handed it over. 

He drew in a deep breath and could feel Kuroo and Kenma's gaze on his back. He flipped back the flap of the manila folder.

Iwaizumi couldn't tell if it was the tequila, but his whole body circulated ice the moment he saw the photos. Oikawa had somewhat of a crazed look paired with exhaustion. The last photo was accompanied by a packet containing a mangled cigarette. Clumps of paper bundled around tobacco bits, all clung together with what Iwaizumi could only imagine was saliva. 

“Why would you chew on a cigarette, fuckass.” Iwaizumi whispered, leaning over his desk.

Kuroo and Kenma look at each other. 

_Since you won’t come for me, at least let me go with you still on my mind._

Iwaizumi froze in place. 

“Don’t,” he whispered.

"Don't?" Echoed Kuroo. Iwaizumi kept his focus on the materials.

"I don't want to look at this stuff right now," he rolled the chair towards the glass wall. He let his finger run pointless shapes in the morning dew.

"But can we?" Kenma asked politely. Iwaizumi nodded, and pulled out a larger folder that held everything they received from Goto and Yatsu.

"I'll try and look through the info you have on Iona," Kuroo piped up, taking the laptop off Iwaizumi's desk. 

The Nekoma leaders made themselves busy while Iwaizumi stared blankly out the windows.

It may have been due to the few drinks they had, but a few hours had flown by. Iwaizumi no longer had the capacity to sit still and gaze off. He kicked off the wall and the chair glided back to his desk. He pushed himself off and made himself comfortable next to Kuroo and Kenma on the couch.

"Fancy you joining us," Kuroo murmured, his attention obviously on the computer. Iwaizumi shifted his body to look over Kenma's shoulder. He was sitting on the edge of the couch overlooking pictures sprawled across the coffee table.

Iwaizumi brushed his finger on Oikawa’s face. He noticed the telltale signs of self maintenance missing. Oikawa’s hair looked frazzled and stubble started gathering at his chin. His lips were especially lacking in hydration; crusts of skin was peeling and specks of black were vaguely freckled.

Lips. 

Lips…?

He stared at Oikawa’s lips and then quickly brought out the other photos. He then lined them up in chronological order. 

"Hey," Iwaizumi urged the others' attention. "Am I losing it from the alcohol, or is Oikawa mouthing something." Kenma looked up and scooted closer to Iwaizumi. He watched as Kenma's eyes followed along the greyscale photos.

"I think you're right, but I'm not familiar with Oikawa's way of speaking, so I can't make out what he's saying," his eyes were akin to a cat in an alleyway, watching Iwaizumi pass by. Forever in anticipation. It was Iwaizumi's cue to decipher the code.

He turned back to the photos. 

Closed; open; closed again; open once more.

His breath hitched.

I, O, N, A. Oikawa had mouthed his location. 

“You fucking genius bastard,” Iwaizumi sobbed, his head sinking down. "It's Iona."

He heard Kuroo's fingers stop clicking on the laptop. He looked back up at Kuroo and Kenma through the cracks of his fingers.

"Iona," he repeated.

"No no, we heard you right, but are you sure?" the liquor was well abandoned at that point. The overturned shot glasses and bottles -now less than a quarter emptied by mostly Kuroo- sat lonely a few feet away from the leg of the table. The table had been occupied by the countless photos that should have had holes from the concentration Iwaizumi and Kenma had on them. 

"I'm sure," Iwaizumi ran his fingers over the indents in the cigarette pack. 

_"I'm sure."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know cigarettes don't actually have that kind of affect on people irl like it did on 'Iwaizumi' but lets just pretend it does <3  
> And let's just pretend this whole plot makes sense <3


	9. Trust

“You know where they are??” Sugawara almost jumped out of his seat. Iwaizumi had barged into the their lodgings unannounced but for obvious good reasons.

“Yeah, Oikawa used the photos to his advantage and subtly hinted his location.”

“How?”

“He mouthed the letters of the place,” Sugawara gave him an all-knowing smile.

“I would have never figured that out.”

“They’re in the Iona bar along the harbor,” Iwaizumi explained. “I suppose the twins fled to that group after their grandfather died.”

Shortly after Iwaizumi realizing what Oikawa meant, he had Kuroo pull up the information on Iona and confirm that a report on new members lined up in Nekoma's reformation timeline. And sure enough, it did.

“Sorry to burst everyone’s enthusiasm, but most of the roads have been blocked off around the harbor.” Daichi propped his phone up to show them the news headline he was reading.

“There’s no way we can get there right now.”

“Well, not by car at least,” Kenma leaned on the door. “But, a certain transportation company and I are on good terms. A few strings can be pulled.” He shook his phone and soon his fingers were flying across his screen. 

“Hey Akaashi, I know it’s late, but do you think you can bring a helicopter to the Aoba Johsai building?” a wicked smile replaced Kenma’s usual straightlaced face. Everyone watched as Kenma finished his short conversion.

“Alright,” Kenma ended the short call and turned to everyone. “There’s only so much room the helicopter has. It can only carry four people, including the pilot. And there’s six of us not including Akaashi.” 

“I,” Iwaizumi’s eyes fell on a man outside the door. The guard Atsumu tacked onto Iwaizumi had sort of trailed after them. He probably didn't hear what they were talking about, but Iwaizumi wasn't going to jeopardize the rescue with his selfishness. He just had to trust they bring back Oikawa.

“I’ll stay back. Akaashi can take you and Kuroo with Kageyama.” Kageyama’s eyes bore a hole in Iwaizumi. He could feel the raw emotions rolling off of him. 

“You coward!” Kageyama lunged at him. Sugawara’s arms missed him entirely and Kageyama grabbed onto Iwaizumi’s shirt collar. “He’s alive! You of all people need to be there for him! How do you think I feel right now?!” Iwaizumi felt his grip loosen until he completely let go.

“We have no confirmation that Hinata is dead,” Iwaizumi swallowed the lump in his throat, “besides. I can’t see Oikawa. Not like that. Plus the government wouldn’t let me.” And with that, a fist collided with his cheek.

“Kageyama!” Sugawara shouted in panic and yanked Kageyama off of Iwaizumi. 

After letting the monstrous punch out, Kageyama vigor hollowed out. His body became limp, and his feet staggered.

“I ask you again,” Kageyama’s voice lowered, “are you coming?”

Iwaizumi carefully touched the throbbing bump that was forming on his cheek and glanced into the hallway.

“No.” 

  
  


Iwaizumi watched a distance away from the helipad as Akaashi’s helicopter whisked Kageyama, Kenma, and Kuroo into the sky. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to go?” Sugawara asked. Iwaizumi’s hand hovered over his cigarette pack in his pocket. 

“No,” Iwaizumi said coldly. “I won’t end up like Kageyama.”

Sugawara pursed his lips. “And how do _you_ know Oikawa is dead? Hypocrisy is for those whose brains rotted.”

“Maybe I’m not so much scared that he’s dead, it’s just,” he couldn’t finish his sentence. 

So he started a different one.

“The government grounded me.”

“Hm.” Iwaizumi’s excuse didn’t satisfy Sugawara, but he didn't press further. He was starting to the door to go down the stairs to meet up with Daichi, but Iwaizumi found himself asking a question.

"What is trust?" Iwaizumi couldn't understand why he was still hung up on that idea. He already heard from Kuroo and Kenma, but it still didn't quite make sense.

"I wonder," Sugawara looked back at Iwaizumi with a soft smile. "I guess it's being able to say anything with that person. No walls, no strings attached. No thoughts of rejection over something you share with them."

The door clacked shut, and Iwaizumi stood outside, letting the frigid Tokyo night winds lash at him.

  
  


Iwaizumi came back to his office after watching the helicopter turn into a small dot among the blinking stars in the sky. He collapsed in his chair, letting the leather swallow his body whole.

He wanted to go get Oikawa himself. Knowing him, he’d complain about his whereabouts.

Iwa-chan this, Iwa-chan that.

But Atsumu was going to continue the investigation from five years ago, the one of him killing off an entire group and eventually setting their building into an inferno. 

But of course, each story has more than one side. Just in this story, the law wasn't on his side.

“Iwaizumi,” he turned to see Matsukawa standing at the doorway. He nodded, and Matsukawa took that as permission to enter.

“I um, heard everything from Daichi.” 

The lights in the room were all off, allowing for the spotlight to be on the Tokyo skyline. The vivid colors twinkled in a way that mesmerized the eye, a young starlet seducing to never stop watching. 

Yet, all the attention was on a man sitting among the illumination.

“And?” Matsukawa stopped and his head cocked to the side.

“And? Aren’t you going to go get Oikawa?”

“No. I trust Kuroo and everyone to get him. I trust Oikawa.”

“Trust?” Matsukawa spoke in a low whisper.

Iwaizumi didn't answer, and instead brought out his cigarette pack and lighter. His hand shaking, he pulled one out.

“What are you doing.”

“His scent isn’t even on the jacket anymore,” Iwaizumi waved the cigarette.

“And that was your only reason not to smoke? No, not even just that, you avoided smoking this entire time, but now you start again? Now?”

Iwaizumi’s hand wavered over his lighter. But he still let it light, the end of the cigarette sputtering to life.

“There’s only so much Oikawa can handle. Trust this, trust that, but isn’t it just you pushing your responsibilities onto him? That isn’t fair to him.”

The cigarette was brought to his lips and he inhaled. The smoke was rough in his throat, but he ignored it and kept going.

“Sometimes I watch Oikawa talk to himself in the office. Most of the time, it’s about you.”

Iwaizumi’s hand stopped inches away from his mouth, the cigarette still lit. He just rolled the cigarette in his fingers, the smoke creating an s-shaped mark in the air. 

“You gave Oikawa your cigarettes. But who do you trust?”

Matsukawa knew he wouldn’t get an answer now, or maybe never, so he left.

Iwaizumi just heaved a sigh, running his hand over the cigarette box. He glanced over at the bomber jacket hastily strung upon the chair.

Who did he trust?

The only definitive thing right now was the fact that Atsumu was going to do everything in his power to drag Iwaizumi down, and with him, Aoba Johsai. And he couldn't depend on Sakusa to stop Atsumu again. He didn't even know the guy. 

The government terrified him, ironically, since he somewhat worked with and under them.

_You himbo. You coward, coward himbo._

He pursed his lips into a thin line. He already knew that. 

"Then what do you think I should do?"

God, he was so delusional. 

_I don't know, maybe follow your own morals instead of what others established? Be selfish?_

“I am scared.” 

He breathed in, the air suddenly soothing in his lungs.

“I am scared. And I don’t know what to trust. I am scared that Oikawa is dead and that I would be too late. But I am also scared that the government will come after me. I am scared.”

Iwaizumi then remembered Kuroo's words: "We all just have different ideas and beliefs to get to the goal."

What could another case against him do? Nothing more than what the first did. Besides, he could make Oikawa fix it up. 

_So come get me. I trust you._

He crushed the butt of the cigarette in a dusty ashtray.

He exhaled.

_“The law can wait for Oikawa.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Incredibly sexy of me to be so bad at linear storytelling-- Like my brain jumps to writing different scenes all the time- and that my friends is exactly why you don't write specific scenes ahead of where you actually are in the plot :)
> 
> Anywho I'll probably end up privating this fic a week after I publish the last chapter to save my embarrassment <3


	10. Moonlight

They were well on their way to the Iona bar located on the harbor with Akaashi at the helm. He was weaving their aircraft through the sea of sprawling buildings with such precision that weaving a length of hair through a needle eye would be a piece of cake for him.

“To think they joined another group with a bar, what a downgrade.” Kuroo laughed nervously.

Despite the helicopter’s loud propellor blades making an insufferable amount of noise, the silence among the passengers was far more deafening. 

“Why didn’t he come,” Kageyama hissed. 

As if in accordance with Kageyama’s anger, the wind became hostile. It toyed with the cabin of the helicopter, swinging it side to side like a pendulum. 

“Shit,” Akaashi was busy taming the helicopter while everyone in the passenger seats were rendered helpless, watching the Tokyo skyline breakdance from the window. They wobbled towards the harbor.

“You guys need to get off,” a bead of sweat ran a marathon down Akaashi’s neck. “There’s a foldable ladder you guys can use to get down,” the controller shook in his hands. 

Kuroo made haste and unfurled the ladder. Kageyama put his weight onto the door to open it and the wind whipped at them with an oppressive force.

"Kageyama, you go first,” he nodded, and promptly skittered down the ladder. The difference between the helicopter and the ground was a good four stories, but Kageyama minimized any wasted movement and easily got to the ground. He put a thumb up to the wavering aircraft.

“Kenma I’ll be going,” Kuroo motioned for the ladder and started his descent down.

“You sure you’ll be fine?” Kenma called to Akaashi. The rocking motion was relentless.

“Yeah I’ll be fine, I just need you all to get to the ground before the wind acts up even more.”

“Alright. Thank you.” Akaashi just bobbed his head.

Kenma leveraged his leg on the first rung of the ladder to test out the stability. The rope became taut under his foot to settle with the weight. He took one last look at Akaashi before descending down the ladder.

Ten rungs.

One floor’s worth of ladder.

He was three stories down the ladder before his foot got caught.

“Kenma!” 

His leg was tangled in between rungs of the ladder, throwing off his balance. The wind blew his lanky body the wrong way, and he tumbled down the rest of the height head first. 

As Kuroo screamed, Kenma curled his body sideways and landed on his shoulder. On impact, it felt as if someone had driven a metal spike clean through his arm. 

He could only sputter a dry cough. 

He had forgotten about the nasty cut he received during that Date Tech raid; It only got worse with the hard hit he took from falling. The crustings of the wound split further up and down his arm, now spanning a good third of his upper arm.

“Kenma!” Kuroo rushed to his side, gingerly taking his arm to take a closer look. “You can’t do anything with your arm,” he warned.

“Great, I’m even more crippled. What good can I do now,” Kenma seethed through his teeth.

“Do your best.” Kuroo affirmed. They watched as Akaashi maneuvered the helicopter further down the harbor.

“Besides, this is our mess to finish.”

They turned to see Kageyama waiting at the corner of the stoned building. It didn't feel like they were in Tokyo anymore, as these buildings were missing a sleek modern concrete jungle vibe. More like brick and mortar, these structures were of a more 1900's-esque style.

Kuroo pulled Kenma to his feet, and all three of them entered the through the glass door with a faded sign, reading Iona. The bar's logo printed on it was worn down and chipped on all sides; it wasn't the type that had a certain comfortable charm about it, rather, it seemed almost neglected. 

"Oh you poor thing," Kuroo muttered, swinging the door open with care. Inside, the place was dusty and had a twinge of mustiness. The chairs were overturned on the tables, and judging by the discoloration of the furniture, it didn't seem like the bar was just closed for the night.

Before they could step further into the bar, a clink at the high bar was heard. The high-pitched chime hummed through the room and seemed to cling in the air. The room seemed to only allow for them to breath in shallowly; too deep of a breath would coat their throat with a thin film of sediment. 

Their eyes slowly adjusted to the lack of light; the moon was starting to show, and the moonlight was peeking through the glass windows of the bar. Kuroo squinted.

"Hm, I wonder how you found me?" An all too familiar voice ran a shiver down Kuroo and Kenma's spines. Kuroo felt Kenma starting to shake, so he laced his hand into his. He knew that his cold hands were the second best option to drawing circles on Kenma's jaw.

"I don't suppose you wanted us to find you," Kuroo hissed. A sharp sound of the friction between Goto's fingers and the glass rang.

"Mm, I don't really know. It would be nice to see Kenma's face one last time, right?" He smirked at Kenma, whose tremors were becoming more erratic. "I just don't really know how you found this place. I mean, taking care of Nekoma would have kept your eyes off my track right?" Kuroo's silence was enough for an answer.

"Well, I don't think it's too important. After all, you came at the perfect night. It's a beautiful full moon out," and as if the moon was flattered by Goto's small talk, the moonlight illumined and pulsated. 

“Y’know, it would have been fine if you took one of us,” Kuroo snarled. Goto laughed and ran his fingers over the barrel of the glock Kuroo had somehow missed on the counter.

“Oh Kuroo, I _know_ Nekoma’s security is absolute. There are no gaps. And since that was the case, there are other ways to kill a cat," his finger caressed the trigger of the gun. "Curiosity isn't the only thing that killed the cat. Though you may be curious of what's upstairs," he pointed to a small staircase hugging the wall.

"Kageyama," Kuroo didn't look back at him, "go." He heard a small whine of protestation from him, but Kageyama darted across the room and up the stairs.

"Hm, how smart. You got rid of the third party. Now it's real personal," Goto pulled the gun into a solid grip, and walked out from behind the tall dark oak counter. Kuroo kept his hand in Kenma's, and with the other hand, he brought out his own gun. The moonlight made it easier for them to see Goto's face. But it was only then that they realized it was only one.

"Where's Yatsu?" Goto frowned.

"That coward? I'm not sure. And people wonder why I was grandpa's favorite," the moon shined off of Goto's teeth, "he had no ambition. Next best thing he can do is copy what I do." He ran his finger over the top of a table and came back with a thick layer of dust. 

"This place," Goto drifted, "is cozy, but it's not home." his sleezy eyes dragged over Kuroo and Kenma. And not a beat later, an unannounced bullet whistled past Kuroo's face and brilliantly shattered the large panel of glass behind them. He turned to see the decal of Iona's name now individualized into the alphabet as if on Oikawa's lips.

"You," Kuroo now had the point of his gun trained on Goto's head, "what do you want."  
  


Goto's head tilted. "What do I want?" Kenma's other hand was closed around his own gun. Granted, he was still shaking, but Kuroo was glad to have backup. 

"I want many things. Call it greedy, whatever makes you sleep at night. But right now," Goto drew a circle around Kuroo's head, "I want you dead."

"Your grandpa was in the wrong," Kenma hissed. Goto's eyes flicked to him. "He made so many bad decisions. It had to happen."

"So? What's to say that funding some trials were heresy? Those kids would have died in the slums anyways."

"How could you take a human life so lightly?"

"And yet you took my grandpa's life without a second thought?" Goto shot another bullet into a table, splintering the thick wood. He walked closer and closer to the entrance where Kuroo and Kenma stood. They subconsciously stepped backwards until they heard the crunch of broken glass under their heels.

"My grandpa was a good leader," Goto growled.

"I would agree," Kuroo's knuckles whitened, "but he advocated for the rise of the wrong side."

A third bullet launched from Goto's gun, and Kuroo yanked Kenma out the broken window wall. He bolted for the closest alleyway, which was a good block away, and they found themselves facing a dumpster hiding in the shadows. 

"Running? When this is my territory?" Goto's shrill laugh bounced off the brick walls. "I will cut the chase. Who am I taking first?" His wrist flicked, changing the target of the gun from Kuroo to Kenma, and back again.

"Neither." Kenma wheezed. He raised his arm and took aim at Goto.

The expected click never came.

"What was that?" Goto pursed his lips. Kuroo looked over to Kenma, who pulled his hand from Kuroo' grasp. Instead, he clutched his shoulder, and Kuroo saw a trickle of blood stream down his arm. 

"Kenma-"

A fourth and fifth bullet.

⥈

Kageyama darted up the stairs. Kuroo had given him the opening he needed; he wasn't going to mess it up.

"Hinata," a single tear squeezed out of his eyes. 

He got up the last set of stairs, and all he saw was a narrow hallway with three doors all lined up on the same side. They each had peepholes, so Kageyama looked into the first one. 

Oikawa. 

Kageyama's breath hitched. Oikawa was slumped in his seat, and he immediately noticed the purple shrivels in place of his fingernails.

He was conflicted whether he should he go in or not. He wasn't here for Oikawa.

He studied Oikawa's face for a second. Although he wasn't looking at Kageyama, he felt as if his eyes were observing him. His shoulders tightened. And he saw Oikawa's chest rise.

He was alive.

Kageyama shuffled to the next room, and peered in.

His blood curdled. He immediately kicked the door in, snapping the wood into glorified wood chips.

"Hinata," he gasped for words. His mind was spiraling in all directions.

There sat _his_ orange head, his arms and ankles bound to the chair, his smooth skin now littered with red marks, his head slumped. Kageyama took a step forward, and his knees gave out. He resorted to crawling to the lifeless body. 

"Hey," his hand gently grasped Hinata's wrist. "This isn't funny."

Kageyama looked up to meet Hinata's face. The lack of emotion combined with his haggard appearance dropped his heart into his lungs. It was already hard enough to breathe in the condition of the building, but now Kageyama couldn't take in any air. 

He knew deep down that it was futile to hope that Hinata was alive. 

"I'm sorry," Kageyama choked, "I wasn't fast enough. I wasn't good enough. I am so sorry." He let his head fall onto Hinata's lap. He felt some of his hair catch in the small crevices the captors left on Hinata. 

Five minutes later, Kageyama looked back up at Hinata's face once more. His attention focused on his eyelashes as they crisscrossed, alternating the top and bottom eyelashes.

Those brown eyes would never smile for him anymore.

⥈

Iwaizumi was stuck in his office. The guy was still outside, and he had no idea how to get past him without creating too much of a ruckus. 

Wait, couldn't he just say that he was out to smoke?

"Hey," Iwaizumi peered out of the door to the guy. He was seated on the bench a few doors down, probably still on Twitter. He looked up and pulled an earbud out.

"Yeah?"

"Can I go out for a smoke?" Iwaizumi shook his cigarette pack. He felt like a kindergartener asking the teacher for permission to go do something that didn't even require their approval.

"Can't you smoke inside?"

"No?"

"Rooftop?" Iwaizumi paused. There was no way out besides a helicopter on the roof, and Akaashi was already occupied. He didn't know any other pilots at Fukurodani.

"Cafe," Iwaizumi offered. The guy squinted and twirled the cord around his finger.

"Nah, sorry man." 

"Rooftop it is," Iwaizumi walked to the elevator room and clicked the waiting button to go up. He glanced back and saw that the man was waiting for Iwaizumi to go up. He found himself tapping his foot in anticipation for the lift. The door opened with a ding a minute later. Cool air had wafted out from the elevator which somehow soothed Iwaizumi's mind. 

He looked back at the guy again, and his eyes were connected to his. 

It was either he went to the roof obediently, or he completely book it downstairs. 

Iwaizumi analyized the man's physique. He was skinny for his height, and Iwaizumi doubted that he could keep up with him if Iwaizumi actually tried to run as fast as he can.

It was now or never.

Iwaizumi chose now.

He spun on his heel and grabbed the handle of the emergency staircase.

"Hey!" good, Iwaizumi caught him off guard. The man's phone dropped, and the cord spun indefinitely around his hand. He hissed, and his attention was off of Iwaizumi. 

He took his chance and bolted down the flights, skipping one or two steps at a time. While focusing on not tripping, he brought his phone out. He scrolled through his contacts before finding the perfect one. He jammed his finger on the call button, and the baritone ringtone echoed in the chamber.

"Hello?" A cheerful voice answered.

"Bokuto?? I need your help," Iwaizumi huffed. He had heard the man's footsteps start down the stairs, and he couldn't stop to make small talk.

"I am listening?"

"Like, I need your help right now. Can you get me to the harbor?" Iwaizumi's phone crackled, which he could only disypher as Bokuto's weight shifting on a bed.

"Uh," Bokuto paused, "I think the way there is blocked off by traffic. Akaashi took you guys by helicopter. Why didn't you go with them?"

"I," Iwaizumi choked, and so did his foot. He slipped a few steps and his hand scrambled for the railing. "It was at full capacity." He was answered with a hum from Bokuto.

"I suppose I can manage," Iwaizumi heard a range of thumps. "I don't suppose you mind a motorcycle though?"

Iwaizumi grinned. "No, I don't." He looked over and saw he was now on floor three.

"Alright, I'll be right there." The line cut off, and Iwaizumi could now focus on not dying on the steps of his own building.

"You have to stop!" The guy's voice echoed off the walls, and Iwaizumi could tell that he was a good floor and a half above him. He had to keep the distance between them, so he sped up and vaulted over the railings when there was only a few steps left in the stairs. After two minutes, he arrived at the very bottom. 

His shirt was sticking to his body from the film of sweat he got from the staircase. It was probably going to have a rough time in the laundry machine after tonight.

He flew through the door and entered the main lobby of Aoba Johsai. Through the large panels of glass, he saw a motorcycle screech to a halt fifteen feet from the large doors.

"Iwaizumi! You can't go!" Iwaizumi's hand was gripped on the handle of the door leading outside. The man had just gotten out of the emergency stairs and he too was glistening with sweat.

"I have to tell Atsumu that you left!" he huffed, hands on his knees. the lobby was buzzing with conversation, and he was sure no one was paying any attention to them.

"And what is he going to do?" Iwaizumi went through the door, and the man started sprinting after.

"Good to see you," Bokuto handed him a helmet while keeping his eyes on the growing figure of the man through the glass. 

"You as well," Iwaizumi popped it on his head.

"Iwaizumi! Listen dude I'd hate to see you get in trouble for nothing," the man was gasping for air like a fish out of water. His words hit a nerve in Iwaizumi. Nothing was definite. Oikawa could be dead, and everything he risked would be for naught.

His body didn't wait for his mind to come to a conclusion, and he swung his leg over the side of the bike. Bokuto let it rip, and they sped off on the road, leaving the poor man in the dust.

"So where exactly do you need to be?" Iwaizumi was focused on the line of streetlights along the highway, and Bokuto's sudden conversation startled him.

"Iona," he managed.

"That beat up bar? That's where Oikawa and Hinata are?" Iwaizumi decided to fill in the minimum amount of details to Bokuto.

"Damn, that's crazy, careful here," Bokuto leaned the bike to the side, running through a tight turn. Iwaizumi felt his stomach do cartwheels.

"Yeah," Iwaizumi was busy getting his guts in order. He began to watch the streetlights march in line again. His brain was running laps around what he should do when he got there, and it was doing him no service. He had to change the subject for his own sake.

“Say, what is your opinion on trust?” Iwaizumi was still lingering on the thought of trust. (Good god, was this now his go to conversation starter?) He knew that he trusted Oikawa, but was that mistaken for another emotion?

“Trust?”

“Yeah, cause like, you’re in a relationship right?”

“Oh yeah, Akaashi is like, the best, on god, I’m not sure how he puts up with me,” Bokuto’s laughs ran along the streams of the Tokyo breeze. “But trust?” Iwaizumi felt Bokuto shift his weight around the motorcycle.

“I wouldn’t be the right person to ask, cause that’s all deep psychological stuff. But I suppose, trust depends on the person.”

Depends on the person?

“How does that work though?”

“I don’t think trust really has a singular definition. For me, I like to think of trust as Akaashi waking me up so I don’t run late for work. I just know that I would never be late because of him. I suppose trust can go deeper, but for me, it all boils down to him being there for me when I need him, and I to him. That’s my trust in him.”

“But,” Iwaizumi’s mouth was dry from the high speed they were going at down the freeway. “What if I pushed something on him that might be too much for him to handle?”

A half mile went by before Bokuto gave an answer.

“Well,” he paused, “I like to also think that your trust in someone ties to your level of trust in yourself.”

“I pushed my cigarette problem onto Oikawa,” Iwaizumi found himself blurting out. What made him even say that? God, he wanted to curl up into a ball and shut off all outside communication.

“Did you _push_ it on him?”

“What?”

“Did you push the problem on him, or did he accept that it was something you needed another person’s help with.”

“I-”

“This is kinda where I was going with the ‘trust in yourself’ thing. Like, you can only ‘trust’ someone as much as you trust yourself. Though, I’m no philosopher. Might have to ask Akaashi on that,” he laughed again.

“No,” Iwaizumi muttered, “this was good.” 

Iwaizumi heard no answer, but he knew Bokuto was smiling. He found himself running his thumb over his cigarettes.

  
  


Bokuto swung his bike to a screeching halt nearby the giant chain links the city used as a pedestrian barrier for the harbor.

“Alright, we’re here,” Iwaizumi handed his helmet over to Bokuto.

“Thank you.” 

“Of course. Kageyama is over there,” Bokuto pointed to a figure a few buildings down. If it weren’t for Bokuto’s sharp eyesight, Iwaizumi would’ve probably glazed over him. Kageyama was camouflaged against the dark panels of glass. 

“I better get going,” the engine roared back to life and he and the motorcycle burst down the empty street. 

Iwaizumi turned to Kageyama. He noticed that his eyes were sunken in even more than they were that morning, and the shadows under his eyes were even more prominent. On his way over to the bar, he texted Kageyama that he was on his way. He had expected some backlash, but he only got an 'ok' in response. 

"He's upstairs," Kageyama dragged his feet through the door to a set of stairs. After tonight, Iwaizumi was strictly taking the elevator; he had enough of the endless steps. They paced up the stairs, and Iwaizumi had the brilliant idea of asking Kageyama about Hinata. All he got was Kageyama's ass to the face.

"Hey," Iwaizumi leaned back. 

"He's dead," Kageyama didn't look back at Iwaizumi. His mouth clamped shut. He should have just stayed quiet. Iwaizumi couldn't mutter a sorry. That was the last thing Kageyama needed to hear.

They got up the last stairs, and Kageyama pointed to the first room. 

His hand hovered over the door knob. Was he ready to see Oikawa? 

Before he tried to open the door again, his hand was swatted to the side and Kageyama turned the handle. He tried to lock his eyes with Kageyama, but the man just turned to the next room and disappeared behind the thick wooden entrance.

He breathed in the stale air, and turned the handle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Go on girl, give us the bare minimum with this fic FJOEJFOWFJOFJF
> 
> anywho Motorcycle Bokuto on the brain <3
> 
> ALSO I haven't touched up this fic since last week since I got distracted by starting up a new Bokuaka fic in my drafts,,,, not to mention the sheer amount of hours I spent on Tiktok (Omfg the haikyuu fanarts are SO GOOD)


	11. Cigarettes

"You're so selfish," Kenma squeezed through his throat. 

"I am," Kuroo murmured. "But you always trust me."

Kenma gave no answer. It was his fault. Goto had shot Kuroo in a vital spot, and Kuroo returned the favor to him. Kenma a few seconds later let loose his magazine and shot Goto in various places to ensure that he was dead. But as much as he launched bullets into Goto's body, it wouldn't mean jack shit; it wouldn't compensate for the single bullet lodged inside Kuroo.

“Hey,” Kenma felt his throat churn; Kuroo choking out words for Kenma made his skin crawl. Never did the possibility of Kuroo no longer standing by his side once cross his mind. Them being together was a given. 

He grasped Kuroo’s arms but didn't grip on; his arms sluggishly slipped down a few inches until he firmly curled his hands on Kuroo’s biceps.

“Maybe Hinata can rub your jaw for me,” Kuroo muttered, gasping between each word as if it took an entire canister of air to deliver them. “Someone needs to keep you from crushing your teeth in,” a wheeze fell from his lips. “That little bastard has to be alive. _I can see the future you know_.” 

“I’ll tell him that you approve of him then,” the thin dry smile on Kenma’s mouth was out of spite and denial. Kuroo had this funny effect on him. 

A single smirk passed across Kuroo’s face before Kenma saw the life steadily slip out of his body. Kuroo's head thumped onto Kenma's shoulder.

Kenma's legs crumbled from out underneath him, bringing both him and Kuroo's body to the ground. A soundless wail escaped Kenma as he desperately clawed at the air, as if he could catch Kuroo and bring him back. 

He slowly brought Kuroo’s hand to his jaw and made it draw vague circles.

Kenma’s discarded phone lit up and a single text from Kageyama shown on the lock screen. 

_Blink._

An icy laugh.

_“Oh Kuroo, I suppose being a prophet wasn’t one of your strong suits.”_

⥈

Oikawa’s eyes glazed over Iwaizumi. No element of surprise crosses his face. No ‘you’re late, Iwa-chan’.

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi’s mouth was parched and his hands clammy. “I’m here now,” he managed. 

No response. 

Oikawa’s head lolled to the the side. It felt as if Oikawa looked right through him; as if he didn’t exist. Iwaizumi felt a barrier he couldn’t cross between them. He hadn’t ever felt this way before, not with Oikawa. He despised this, this uncertainty. 

He had always been able to read Oikawa like an open book, yet at this moment he wasn’t written in a language Iwaizumi understood. 

His legs glued begrudgingly to the floor, he wobbled towards his partner. He leaned down to meet Oikawa’s eyes. 

His pupils were contracting like the shutter of a camera.

Iwaizumi almost let out a sob.

"I'm sorry," he coughed, "I'm sorry for everything," he tenderly grasped Oikawa's face and felt him flinch from his touch.

Iwaizumi gave one last scan of Oikawa’s face before smashing his lips onto his. His eyes still open, Iwaizumi studied Oikawa’s reaction. Still nothing. But his lips did part open, and Iwaizumi took the chance and slips his tongue in. 

Iwaizumi felt Oikawa relax underneath him. His tongue still tasted like cigarettes, but so did Oikawa's. Oikawa's tongue roamed his mouth, as if it were looking for every bit of tobacco left.

"......Taste like tobacco," Oikawa croaked.

"I’m here now." This was his trust.

Oikawa raised his hands to touch Iwaizumi’s face to make sure it really was him, but his wrists jerked back down from the taut chains. Iwaizumi took notice, and started to saw at the chains locked around him. 

Oikawa let out a sob, _“you’re here now,”_ he rested his cheek on Iwaizumi’s shoulder and let the remaining bits of cigarette dribble out of his mouth.

After removing all the restraints, Iwaizumi let Oikawa stretch himself out. He decided to check up on Kageyama. he hadn't seen Hinata, or rather his dead body, so he went over to the other room.

He felt like he was intruding. Kageyama's head was settled on Hinata's lap, his face turned to his stomach. One of his hands were skimming over his bound wrist. A bit of moonlight shone from the window behind Iwaizumi, and the edges of both Kageyama and Hinata were glowing. It was almost as if he was viewing a Renaissance painting in a museum. 

Yearning from the tips of his fingers, Kageyama's touch electrified Iwaizumi despite having no contact with him. 

He had no right to disturb him. Iwaizumi quietly moved back to Oikawa's side.

"How are you feeling?" Oikawa jumped, which pissed Iwaizumi off. 

It wasn't so much so Oikawa himself that pissed him off, it was what _caused_ Oikawa to react that way that pissed him off. He didn't allow himself to get closer to Oikawa in case something worse happened. 

"I," Oikawa muttered, a frown firmly planted on his face. "Iwaizumi, I'm sorry."

His heart clenched and sunk deeper into his body.

Iwaizumi?

No, this was all wrong. 

"Oikawa, no, Tooru," Iwaizumi stammered. Oikawa looked up at him with a blank stare.

"I need to tell Kageyama something." As much as it hurt him, Iwaizumi agreed to it. It was the least he could do right now. "Alone."

"I," he clamped his mouth shut. "I'll go get him."

He returned back to the other room per Oikawa's request, but now Kageyama was entirely removed from touching Hinata.

"Oikawa has something to say to you," Iwaizumi let his eyes wander everywhere but where Kageyama was sitting.

"What did he say."

"I don't know. He asked to speak to you alone." Iwaizumi let himself emphasize on the idea of them alone in a room. Kageyama took the hint and excused himself to the neighboring room. 

Glancing around, he realized Kageyama didn't take the chains off of Hinata, so he took it upon himself to do so. After removing all four, he heard Kageyama come back. 

He tilted his head up, and saw a bitter smile tacked on Kageyama. As much as he wanted to ask, he knew there was a reason Oikawa requested to speak to only Kageyama.

"You can go back," Kageyama gestured to the hall. "I'll take him," his tone completely softened when he spoke the last word. He scooped up Hinata's body and allowed for his head to rest in the crook of his neck.

He returned back to Oikawa's side. 

"I'm sorry," Iwaizumi found himself repeating.

"But you're actually here now. I trusted that you would come find me." Oikawa's gaze wasn't focused on anything in particular.

Iwaizumi brought out his pack of cigarettes from his pocket. They were smashed flat, and the flap was bent in an ugly fashion, but it was still in tact nonetheless. he reached out for Oikawa's hand, and luckily he didn't reject his touch this time. He pressed the box into Oikawa's palm and squeezed his fingers to close around it.

He brought his forehead to his and closed his eyes.

"And I trust you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be fair, I don't really know what possessed me to write this shitshow either


End file.
